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RICHARD THE THIRD, 



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A TRAGEDY J 



BY 



28L Sftaftsueaire* 



BOSTON : 



PUBLISHED BY WELLS AND LILLY— COURT-STREET : \ 



AND 



A. T. GOODRICH, & CO. NEW- YORK. 
1822. 




\t 

ft- 



CONTAINED IN THIS EDITION, AS FAR AS YET PUB- 
LISHED IN ENGLAND. 



No. 1 A New Way to Pay Old 
Debts. 

2 Rivals. 

3 West Indian. 

4 Hypocrite. 

5 Jealous Wife. 

6 She Stoops to Conquer. 

7 Richard III. 

8 Beggar's Opera. 

9 Wonder. 

10 Duenna. 

11 Alexander the Great. 

12 Lionel and Clarissa. 

13 Hamlet. 

14 Venice Preserved. 

15 Is he Jealous? 

16 Woodman's Hut. 

17 Love in a Village. 

18 Way to Keep Him. 

19 Castle Spectre. 

20 Maid of the Mill. 

21 Clandestine Marriage. 

22 Soldier's Daughter. 

23 Othello. 

24 Distressed Mother. 

25 Provoked Husband. 

26 Deaf and Dumb. 

27 Busy Body. 

28 Belle's Stratagem. 

29 Romeo and Juliet. 

30 Recruiting Officer. 

31 Bold Stroke for a Wife. 

32 Road to Ruin. 

33 Beaux' Stratagem. 

34 As you Like It. 

35 King John. 



36 Country Girl. 

37 Jane Shore. 

38 Critic. 

39 Coriolanus. 

40 Rosina. 

41 Suspicious Husband. 

42 Honest Thieves. 

43 Mayor of Garratt. 

44 Merry Wives of Windsor. 

45 Stranger. 

46 Three Weeks after Mar- 

riage. 

47 King Lear. 

48 Inconstant. 

49 Shipwreck. 

50 Rugantino. 

51 Wild Oats. 

52 Rule a Wife and Have a 

Wife. 

53 Magpie. 

54 Quaker. 

55 Merchant of Venice. 

56 Wheel of Fortune. 

57 Rob Roy. 

58 Citizen. 

59 Deserter. 

60 Miser. 

61 Guy Mannering. 

62 Cymbeline. 

63 Lying Valet. 

64 Twelfth Night. 

65 The Confederacy. 

66 Douglas. 

67 Who's the Dupe. 

68 Know Your own Mind. 



/l 3 



®fftetv&u SSSrCtl on. 
RICHARD THE THIRD, 

A TRAGEDY \ 

it 

ADAPTED TO THE STAGE BY COLLEY GIBBER. 



WITH PREFATORY REMARKS. 

"CHE ONLY EDITION EXISTING, WHICH IS FAITHFULLY 

MARKED WITH THE STAGE BUSINESS, 

AND STAGE DIRECTIONS, 

AS IT IS PERFORMED AT THE 
By W. OXBERRY, Comedian. 



BOSTON : 

WELLS AND LILLY,— COURT-STREET 

182& 



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ii/?JT 



Meroatitj* 



KING RICHARD THE THIRD. 



Iiling Richard the Third*' is among the mo'si popu- 
lar of Shakspeare's tragedies, though far inferior to many 
other efforts of the same mighty master. The reason of 
this preference is perhaps to be sought in the common pas- 
sions which it exhibits, and the obvious means by which 
those passions are made successful. Ambition, or in other 
words, the desire of acquiring something more than is al- 
lotted to us, is a passion proper to all men ; no matter how 
high or low the object, the affection is the same. Here 
then is the point of contract between Richard and his 
audience, and the means that he employs add strongly to 
the impression : they are indeed dexterous and daring in 
the highest degree, but we see them only in their effects ; 
the preparation for his gigantic projects, which must, from 
its nature, be too subtle for common apprehensions, is kept 
out of sight ; we are hurried from one grand effect to 
another, without pause, without argument ; and as the 
dullest souls can admire great consequences, though few 
can appreciate the means, we follow Richard with undi- 
vided attention. When at last his crimes have multiplied 
beyond the bounds of endurance, and disgust is begin- 
ning to arise, the poet opens a new source of pleasure ii* 
his death. 



The characters of Lady Anne and Buckingham, though 
obscured by the splendid iniquity of Richard, are drawn 
with wonderful accuracy and power. The first more par- 
ticula ly, is seldom considered as such a creation should 
be considered ; her very failings endear her to us : weak, 
but not vicious ; changeful, but not deficient in affection, 
she is, of all objects, the most calculated for tragic pathos ; 
her miserable fate is the natural consequence of her errors, 
but those errors are so skilfully touched, that they only add 
to our compassion. Bucleingham, proud, high-minded, and 
selfish, is the portrait of half mankind ; with all the lesser 
vices of life he is familiar ; he goes on quickly through a 
course of iniquity undisturbed ; no feeling of gratitude, or 
honour, or pity, stops him, till in the end, murder, the last 
link in the chain, stares him in the face, and even his sel- 
fishness is aroused ; but even here, he acts from impulse, 
and not from any exertion of the understanding ; his vices 
and virtues are the effect of habit. 

Of Cibber's alteration it is scarcely necessary to say 
much ; he has improved the play, but he has destroyed the 
poem. Shakspeare had originally conducted the plot with 
sufficient abruptness, but this is tenfold increased under the 
hands of Cibber ; still he deserves no little credit, and if 
the soliloquy on conscience be really his production, and 
of this there seems no rational cause for doubt, Pope's 
snarling criticism, in the Dunciad, reflects disgrace upon 
himself and not his victim ; but Pope was an ungenerous 
enemy, a worse friend : on the one he would trample when 
fallen, and the other he would deceive when trusting. 



3Ttme of Mtpnmutatiw* 



The time this piece takes in representation, is three hours 
and fourteen minutes. The first act occupies the space 
of forty minutes — the second, thirty-nine — the third, thirty- 
five — the fourth, forty-two — the fifth, thirty-eight. — The' 
half price commences, generally, at about nine: 



Stage Directions. 



By R.H. - is meant Right Hand. 

I/.H. - — Left Hand. 

S.e. — - — - — ---- — - Second Entrance. 
t.e. ---- — _________ Upper Entrance. 

M.D. _-_-__- Middle Door. 

D.F. — Door in Flat. 

B..H.D. — Right Hand Door. 

&.H.D. Left Hand Door* 



I 



<£d0tume. 




GLOSTER.— First Dress.— Scarlet doublet, trunks, hose, hat, cloak, 
and russe< boots — Second Dress — B tack ditto ditto, trimmed with gold, 
crimson velvet robe, white hose, snoes, and plush hat.— Third Dress. — 
Armour body, and hat 

KING HENRY.— Purple robe and tunic richly embroidered, the robe 
trimmed with ermine, and a tippet of ermine. 

PRINCE OF WALES.— First Dress.- White satin tunic, crimson 
velvet roiie Ibid —Second Dress.— Black tunic, Ibid. 

DUKE OF YORK —First Dress.— White satin tunic, hose and shoes. 
— Second Dress.— Black tunic, Ibid. 

BUCKINGHAM.— Black velvet robe, and fawn coloured tunic, richly 

embroidered 

NORFOLK.— Scarlet tunic richly embroidered, breast-plate and hel- 
met. 

OXFORD — First Dress.— Green robe and tunic embroidered.— Second 
Dress. — Tunic, breast plate and helmet. 

Richmond.— Buff tunic, scarlet pantaloons, breast-plate, helmet, russet 

boots, ike. 

STANLEY.— First Dress— Purple robe, orange coloured tunic richly 
embroidered, hat and feathers.— Second Dress.— Tunic, breast-plate and 
helmet. 

LIEUTENANT.— Green, Ibid. 

LORD MAYOR.— Robe and tunic 

CATESBY— First Dress.— Light blue velvet robe, light brown tunic, 
embroidered.— Second Dress.— Tunic and breast-plate. 

RATCLIFF — First Dress. -Black velvet tunic embroidered.— Second 
Dress.— Breast-plate and helmet. 

TRESSEL.— Dark green, Ibid. 

BLUNT.— Crimson, Ibid. 

Richard's Soldiers, Ibid. 

Richmond's Soldiers, Grey, Ibid. 

Officers, coloured tunics to correspond with the Soldiers. 



QUEEN.— First Dress.— White cloth, embroidered with gold, large 
sleeves hangiDg from the wrists, shoulder robe of the same ; white crape 
handkerchief embroidered with gold, and tiara of jewels.— Second Dress. 
—Black velvet, and crape robe. 

LADY ANNE —Black velvet dress, black crape handkerchief, bugle 



tiara 



DUCHESS OF YORK.-Black velvet dress and robe, crape handki*- 
Chief, and bugle tiara. 

Four Ladies,— dresses, 8cc. to correspond. 



persons l&qjmeutetL 



Drury-lane. Covent-garden. 

King Henry the Sixth , . . Mr. Pope. Mr. Egerton. 

Prince of Wales ...... Miss C. Carr. Miss Boden. 

Duke of York Miss G. Carr. Miss C. Bodeti. 

Richard, Duke of Gloster . . . Mr. Kean. Mr- Macready. 

Duke of Buckingham .... Mr. Holland. Mr. Terry. 

Duke of Norfolk Mr. Thompson. Mr. Comer. 

Richmond ........ Mr. Elliston. Mr. Abbott. 

Lord Stanley Mr. Powell. Mr. Chapman. 

Catesby Mr, Hamblin. Mr. Claremont. 

Ratcliff Mr. Elliot. Mr. Treby. 

Oxford * . . . Mr. Coveney. Mr. Menage. 

Blunt i • « Mr. Read. Mr. King. 

Lieutenant of the Tower . . . Mr. Foote. Mr. Jefferies. 

Tressel , Mr. Barnard. Mr. Connor. 

Lord Mayor • . Mr. Meredith. Mr Atkins. 

Tirrel , Mr. Vining. Mr. Norris. 

Forest ■ * .« . Mr. Hudson. Mr. White. 

Dighton Mr. Moreton. Mr. Louis. 

Officer * Mr. Buxton. Mr. Howell. 

Queen . ........ Mrs. Glover. Mrs. Faucit. 

Lady Anne Mrs. W. West. Mrs, Yates. 

RiicheM of- York » . • . . Mrs. Knight. Mrs. Connor* 



KING RICHARD III* 



ACTI. 

SCENE I. — A View of the Keep, and Gardens of 
the White Tower. 

Enter Lieutenant and Officer, r.h. 

Lieut. Has King Henry walk'd forth this 
morning ? 

Off. No, sir ; but it is near his hour. 

Lieut. At any time when you see him here, 
Let no stranger into the garden ; 
I would not have him star'd at. {Officer crosses 

behind, to l.h.) See, who's that, 
Now ent'ring at the gate. (Knocking within, l.h.) 

Off Sir, the Lord Stanley. 

Lieut. Leave me.— [Exit Off., l.h. 

Enter Lord Stanley, l.h. 

My noble lord, you're welcome to the Tower s 
I heard last night you late arrived with new? 
Of Edward's victory, to his joyful queen. 



10 RICHARD III. 

Stan. Yes, sir, and I am proud to be the mam 
That first brought home the last of civil broils ; 
The houses now of York and Lancaster, 
Like bloody brothers fighting for a birth-right, 
No more shall wound the parent that would part 

'em ; 
Edward now sits secure on England's throne. 

Lieut Near Tewksbury, my lord, 1 think they 
fought : 
Has the enemy lost any men of note ? 

Stan. Sir, I was posted home, 
Ere an account was taken of the slain ; 
But as I left the field, a proclamation 
From the king was made in search of Edward,, 
Son to your prisoner, king Henry the Sixth, 
Which gave reward to those discov'ring him, 
And him his life if he'd surrender. 

Lieut. That brave young prince, I fear's unlike 
his father, 
Too high of heart to brook submissive life : 
This will be heavy news to Henry's ear, 
For on this battle s cast his all was set. 

Stan. King Henry and ill-fortune are familiar ; 
He ever threw with an indifferent hand, 
But never yet was known to lose his patience : 
How does he pass the time, in his confinement t 

Lieut. As one whose wishes never reach'd a 
crown ; 
The king seems dead in him, but, as a man, 
He sighs sometimes in want of liberty. 
Sometimes he reads, and walks, and wishes 
That fate had bless'd him with a humbler birth, 
Not to have felt the falling from a throne. 



RICHARD III. II 

Stan. Were it not possible to see this king ? 
They say he'll freely talk with Edward's friends. 
And even treats them with respect and honour. 

Lieut. This is his usual time of walking fort h$ 
(For he's allowed the freedom of the garden,) 
After his morning prayer ; he seldom fails : 
Behind this arbour we unseen may stand 
Awhile to observe him. {They retire, l.h.) 

Enter King Henry, r.h. 

King H. By this time the decisive blow is 
struck, 
Either my queen and son are bless'd with 

victory, 
Or I'm the cause no more of civil broils* 
Would I were dead, if heav'n's good- will were so, 
For what is in this world but grief and care ? 
What noise and bustle do kings make to find it ; 
When life's but a short chace, our game content, 
Which most pursu'd is most compell'd to fly ; 
And he that mounts him on the swiftest hope, 
Shall often run his courser to a stand ; 
While the poor peasant from some distant hill, 
Undanger'd, and at ease, views all the sport, 
And sees content take shelter in his cottage. 

Stan. He seems extremely moved. 

Lieut. Does he know you ? 

Stan. No, nor would I have him. 

Lieut. We'll show ourselves. 

{They comeforzvard, l.h.) 

King H. Why, there's another check to proud 
ambition ; 



12 RICHARD III. 

That man received his charge from me, and now 
I am his prisoner, — he locks me to my rest. 
Such an unlook'd for change who could suppose, 
That saw him kneel to kiss the hand that rais'd 

him ! 
But that I should not now complain of, 
Since I to that, 'tis possible may owe 
His civil treatment of me. — 'Morrow, Lieutenant : 
Is any news arriv'd ? — Who's that with you ? 

Lieut. A gentleman that came last night express 
From Tewksbury. — We've had a battle. 

King H. Comes he to me with letters, or advice ? 

Lieut. Sir, he's king Edward's officer, your foe. 

King H. Then he won't flatter me. — You're 
welcome, sir ; {Lieut retires a little, l.h.) 
Not less because you are king Edward's friend. 
For I have almost learn'd myself to be so j 
Could I but once forget I was a king, 
I might be truly happy, and his subject. 
You've gained a battle ; is't not so ? 

Stan. We have, sir, — how, will reach your 
ear too soon. 

King H. If to my loss, it can't too soon, — 
pray speak, 
For fear makes mischief greater than it is. 
My queen ! my son ! say, sir, are *hey living ? 

Stan. Since my arrival, sir, another post 
Came in, and brought us word your queen and son 
Were prisoners now at Tewksbury. 

King H. Heaven's will be done ! the^ hunters 
have 'em now, • 
And I have only sighs and prayers to help 'em 



RICHARD III. 13 

Stan. King Edward, sir, depends upon his 

sword ; 
Yet prays heartily when the battle's won ; 
And soldiers love a bold and active leader. 
Fortune, like women, will be close pursued ; 
The English are high mettled, sir, and 'tis 
No easy part to fit 'em well ; — King Edward 
Feels their temper, and 'twill be hard to throw 

him. 
King H. Alas ! I thought them men, and 

rather hop'd 
To win their hearts by mildness than severity. 
My soul was never formed for cruelty : 
In my eyes justice has seem'd bloody ; — 
When on the city gates 1 have beheld 
A traitor's quarters parching in the sun, 
My blood has tura'd with horror at the sight j 
I took 'em down, and buried with his limbs 
The memory of the dead man's deeds ; — perhaps 
That pity made me look less terrible, 
Giving the min^ of weak rebellion spirit ; 
For kings are put in trust for all mankind, 
And when themselves take injuries, who is safe ? 
If so, I have deserv'd these frowns of fortune. 

v Enter Officer, l.h. 

Off. Sir, here's a gentleman brings a warrant 
For his access to king Henry's presence. 

Lieut. I come to him. [Exit Officer, l.h. 

Stan. His business may require your privacy ; 
I'll leave you, sir, wishing you all the good 
That can be wish'd, — not wronging him I serve. 
2 



/ 



14 RICHARD III. 

King H. Farewell ! 

[Exeunt Stanley and Lieutenant, l.h. 
Who can this be ? — A sudden coldness, 
Like the damp hand of death, has seized my 

limbs : 
I fear some heavy news ! — 

Re-enter Lieutenant, l.h. 

Who is it, good Lieutenant ? 

Lieut. A gentleman, sir, from Tewksbury : 
he seems 
A melancholy messenger, — for when I ask'd 
What news, his answer was a deep-fetch'd sigh ; 
I would not urge him, but I fear 'tis fatal. 

[Exit, l.h. 
King H. Fatal indeed ! his brow's the title page, 
That speaks the nature of a tragic volume. — 

Enter Tressel, l.h. 

Say, friend, how does my queen ? My son ? 
Thou tremblest, and the whiteness of thy cheek 
Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. 
Ev'n such a man, so faint, so spiritless, 
So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, 
Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night ; 
And would have told him half his Troy was burn'd; 
But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue, 
And I my poor son's death ere thou relat'st it. 
Now would'st thou say, — your son did thus and 

thus, 
And thus your queen ! so fought the valiant 

Oxford ; 



■ ■ .. . 



RICHARD III. 15 

Stopping" my greedy ear with their bold deeds ; 
But, in the end, (to stop my ear indeed,) 
Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, 
Ending with, — queen and son, and all are dead. 
Tres. Your queen yet lives, and many of your 
friends : 
But for my lord your son — 

King H. Why, he is dead ! — yet speak, I 
charge thee ! 
Tell thou thy master his suspicion lies, 
And I will take it as a kind disgrace, 
And thank thee well, for doing me such wrong. 
Tres. Would it were wrong to say ; but, sir, 

your fears are true. 
King H. Yet, for all this, say not my son is dead. 
Tres, Sir, I am sorry 1 must force you to 
Believe, what would to heav'n I had not seen : 
But in this last battle near Tewksbury, 
Your son, whose active spirit lent a fire 
Ev'n to the dullest peasant in our camp, 
Still made his way where danger stood to oppose 

him. 
A braver youth, of more courageous heat, 
Ne'er spurr'd his courser at the trumpet's sound. 
But who can rule the uncertain chance of war ? 
In fine, king Edward won the bloody field, 
Where both your queen and son were made his 
prisoners. 
King H. Yet hold : for oh ! this prologue lets 
me in 
To a most fatal tragedy to come. 
Died he a prisoner say'st thou ? How ? by grief? 
Or by the bloody hands of those that caught him ? 



16 RICHARD III. 

Tres. After the fight, Edward in triumph askM 
To see the captive prince ; — the prince was 

brought, 
Whom Edward roughly chid for bearing arms ; 
Asking what reparation he could make 
For having stirr'd his subjects to rebellion ? 
Your son, impatient of such taunts, replied, 
Bow like a subject, proud ambitious York, 
While 1, now speaking with my father's mouth. 
Propose the self-same rebel words to thee, 
Which, traitor, thou would'st have me answer to : 
From these, more words arose, till in the end, 
King Edward swell'd with what the unhappy 

prince 
At such a time too freely spoke, his gauntlet 
In his young face with indignation struck ; 
At which crook'd Richard, Clarence, and the rest, 
Buried their fatal daggers in his heart. 
In bloody state I saw him on the earth, 
From whence with life he nevermore sprung up. 
King H. Oh! had'st thou stabb'd at every 

word s deliverance 
Sharp poniards in my flesh, while this was told, 
Thy wounds had given less anguish than thy 

words. 
Oh heav'n ! methinks I see my tender lamb 
Gasping beneath the rav nous wolves' fell gripe ! 
But say, did all ; — did they all strike him, say'st 

thou? 
Tres. All, sir ; but the first wound duke Rich- 
ard gave. 
King H. There let him stop ; be that his last 

of ills ! 



RICHARD III. H 

Oh ! barbarous act ! inhospitable men ! 
Against the rigid laws of arms, to kill him ! 
Was't not enough his hope of birth-right gone, 
But must your hate be levell'd at his life ? 
Nor could his father's wrongs content you ; 
Nor could a father s grief dissuade the deed? 
You have no children ! — butchers, if you had, 
The thought of them would sure have stirr'd 
remorse. 
Tres. Take comfort, sir, and hope a better day. 
King H. Ob ! who can hold a fire in his hand, 
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ? 
Or wallow naked in December s snow, 
By bare remembrance of the summer's heat ? 
Away; — by heaven I shall abhor his sight, 
Whoever bids me be of comfort more ! 
If thou wilt soothe my sorrows then I'll thank 

thee ; 
Ay, now thou'rt kind indeed ! these tears oblige 
me. 
Tres. Alas ! my lord, I fear more evils towards 

you. 
King H. Why, let it come, I scarce shall feel 
it now : 
My present woes have beat me to the ground : 
And my hard fate can make me fall no lower, 
What can it be ? — Give it it's ugliest shape ; — 
Oh ! my poor boy ! 

Tres. A word does that, it comes in Gloster's 

form. 
King. K. Frightful indeed ! give me the worst 
that threatens. 

2 * 



18 RICHARD III*. 

Tres. After the murder of your son, stern 

Richard, 
As if unsated with the wounds he had given, 
With unwash'd hands went from his friends in 

haste ; 
And being asked by Clarence of the cause, 
He low'ring cried, brother, I must to the Tower ; 
IVe business there ; excuse me to the king : 
Before you reach the town, expect some news ; 
This said, he vanished, — and I hear's arrived. 
King H. Why then the period of my woes is 

set ! 
For ills but thought by him are half perform'd, 

Enter Lieutenant, with an Order, l.h. 

Lieut. Forgive me, sir, what I'm compell'd 
t'obey : 
An order for your close confinement 

King H. Whence comes it, good Lieutenant ? 
Lieut. Sir, from the duke of Gloster. 
King H. Good night to all then ; — I obey it. 
(Lieut, retires a little, r.h.) 
And now, good friend, suppose me on my death- 
bed, 
And take of me thy last, short-living leave. 
Nay, keep thy tears till thou hast seen me dead ; 
And when in tedious winter nights, with good 
Old folks thou sitt'st up late 
To hear 'em tell the dismal tales 
Of times long past, ev'n now with woe remem- 

ber'd 
Before thou bidd'st good night, to quit their grief, 
Tell thou the lamentable fall of me, 



RICHARD III. 19 

And send thy hearers weeping to their beds. 
[Exeunt^ King Henry, and Lieut, r.h. Tresscl, l.h. 

SCENE II. — The Entrance to the Inner Ward. 

Enter Gloster, l.h. 

Glos. Now is the winter of our discontent 
Made glorious summer by the sun* of York ; 
And all the clouds, that lower'd upon our house, 
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. 
Now are our brows bound with victorious 

wreaths, 
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; 
Our stern alarums are chang'd to merry meet? 

ings; 
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. 
Grim-visag'd war has smooth' d his wrinkled 

front ; 
And now, — instead of mounting barbed steeds, 
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, — 
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber, 
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute : 
But I, — that am not shap'd for sportive tricks, 
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass ; 
I, — that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's ma- 
jesty, 
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph ; 
I, — that am curtail'd of man's fair proportion, 

* Alluding to the cognizance of Edward IV. which was a 
sun, in memory of the three suns which are said to have 
appeared at the battle which he gained over the Lancastri- 
ans, at Mortimer's Cross. 



20 RICHARD III. 

Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, 
Deform'd, unfimsh'd, sent before my time 
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up., 
And that so lamely, and unfashionable, 
That dogs bark at me, as I halt by them ; — 
Why I, — in this weak, piping time of peace, 
Have no delight to pass away my hours, 
Unless to see my shadow in the sun, 
And descant on my own deformity : ' 
Then, since this earth affords no joy to me, 
But to command, to check, and o'erbear such 
As are of happier person than myself; 
Why then, to me this restless worlds but hell. 
Till this mis-shapen trunk's aspiring head 
Be circled in a glorious diadem ;^- 
But then 'tis fixed on such a height ; oh ! I 
Must stretch the utmost reaching of my soul. 
I'll climb betimes, without remorse or dread, 
And my first step shall be on Henry s head. 

[Exit, r.h. 

SCENE III. — King Henry's Chamber, — King 
Henry discovered sleeping. 

Enter Lieutenant, r.h.d. 

Lieut. Asleep so soon, but sorrow minds no 
seasons, 
The morning, noon, and night, with her's the 

same ; 
She's fond of any hour that yield's repose. 
King H. {Waking.) Who's there! Lieutenant,' 
js it you ? Come hither ! 



RICHARD III. 21 

Lieut. You shake, ray lord, and look affrighted. 
King H. Oh ! I have had the fearftuTst dream! 
such sights, 
That, as I live, 

I would not pass another hour so dreadful, 
Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days. 
Reach me a book ; — I'll try if reading can 
Divert these melancholy thoughts. — (Lieut, gives 
him a book which he takes from the table.) 

Enter Gloster, R.h.d. 

Glos. Good day, my lord ; what, at your book 
so hard ? 
I disturb you. (Lieut, advances to r.h.d.) 
King H. You do indeed, 
Glos. (To Lieut.) Friend, leave us to our- 
selves, we must confer. 

King H. What bloody scene has Roscius now 
to act 1 [Exit Lieut, r.h.d. 

Glos. Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind ; 
The thief does fear each bush an officer. 
King H. Where thieves without controlment 
rob and kill, 
The traveller does fear each bush a thief: 
The poor bird that has been already lirn'd, 
With trembling wings misdoubts of every bush : 
And I, the hapless mate of one sweet bird, 
Have now the fatal object in my eye, 
By whom my young one bled, was caught, and 
kilPd. 
Glos. Why what a peevish fool was that of 
Crete, 



22 RICHARD III. 

That taught his son the office of a fowl ! 

And yet for all his wings, the fool was drown'd : 

Thou should'st have taught thy boy his prayers 

alone, 
And then he had not broke his neck with climb- 
ing. 

King H. Ah ! kill me with thy weapon, not 
thy words ; 
My breast can better brook thy dagger's point, 
Than can my ears that piercing story ; 
But wherefore dost thou come ? Is't for my life ? 

Glos. Think's thou I am an executioner? 

King H. If murdering innocents be executing, 
Then thou'rt the worst of executioners. 

Glos. Thy son I kill'd for his presumption. 

King H, Had'st thou been kill'd when first 
thou didst presume, 
Thou had'st not lived to kill a son of mine : 
But thou wert born to massacre mankind. 
How many old men's sighs, and widows' moans j 
How many orphan's water standing eyes ; 
Men for their sons, wives for their husband's fate, 
And children for their parent's timeless death, 
Wili rue the hour that ever thou wert born ! 
The owl shriek'd at thy birth, an evil sign ! 
The night-crow cry'd, foreboding luckless times ; 
Dogs howl'd, and hideous tempests shook down 

trees ; 
The raven rook'd her on the chimney top, 
And chattering pies in dismal discord sung ; 
Thy mother felt more than a mother's pain, 
And yet brought forth less than a mother's hope. 
Teeth had'st thou in thy head when thou wert 
born, 



RICHARD III. 23 

Which plainly said, thou cam'st to bite mankind; 
And if the rest be true which I have heard, 
Thou cam'st — 

Glos. I'll hear no more ; — die, prophet, in thy 
speech ; 
For this, among the rest, was I ordain'd. 

(Stabs him.) 
King H. Oh ! and for much more slaughter 
after this ; 
Just heav'n forgive my sins, and pardon thee ! 

(Dies.) 
Glos. What ! will the aspiring blood of Lan- 
caster 
Sink in the ground ? — I thought it would have 

mounted — 
See how my sword weeps for the poor king's 

death. 
Oh, may such purple tears be always shed, 
From those that wish the downfall of our house! 
If any spark of life be yet remaining, 
Down, down to hell, and say I sent the thither ; 

(Stabs him.) 
I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear. 
Indeed, 'tis true what Henry told me of j 
For I have often heard my mother say, 
I came into the world with my legs forward ; 
The midwife wonder'd, and the women cry'd, 
Good heaven bless us ! he is born with teeth ! 
And so I was which plainly signified, 
That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog. 
Then since the heav'ns have shap'd my body so, 
Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it ! 
1 have no brother, am like no brother, 



24 RICHARD III. 

And this word love, which grey-beards call di- 
vine, 
Be resident in men like one another, 
And not in me ; — I am, — myself alone. 
Clarence, beware, thou keep'st me from the 

light; 
But if I fail not in my deep intent, 
Thou'st not another day to live ; which done, 
Heavn take the weak king Edward to his mercy, 
And leave the world for me to bustle in. [won. 
But soft; — I'm sharing spoil, before the field is 
Clarence still breathes, Edward still lives and 

reigns, 
When they are gone, then I must count my gains. 

[Exit) R.H.D, 

END OF ACT I. 



ACT II. 

SCENE l.—Ludgate. 



Enter Tressel, l.h. meeting Lord Stanley, who 
enters r.h.u.e. 

Tres. My lord, your servant ; pray what 

brought you to St Paul's ? 
Stan. I came among the crowd, to see the 
corpse 
Of poor King Henry : 'tis a dismal sight. 



RICHARD III. 25 

But yesterday I saw him in the Tower : 
His talk is still so fresh within my memory, 
That I could weep to think how fate has used 

him. 
I wonder where's duke Richard's policy, 
In suffering him to lie expos d to view ; 
Can he believe that men will love him for't? 

Tres. O yes, sir, love him as he loves his 
brothers. 
When was you with king Edward, pray, my lord.? 
I hear he leaves his food, is melancholy ; 
And his physicians fear him mightily. 

Stan. 'Tis thought he'll scarce recover. 
Shall we to court, and hear more news of him. 

(Crosses to i.h.) 

Tres. I am obliged to pay attendance here : 
The lady Anne has license to remove 
King Henry's corpse to be interred at Chertsey j 
And I'm engag'd to follow her. 

Stan. Mean you king Henry's daughter-in-law 7 

Tres. The same, sir ; widow to the late prince 
Edward, 
Whom Gloster killed at Tewksbury. 

Stan Alas ! poor lady, she's severely used :. 
And yet, I hear, Richard attempts her love : 
Methinks the wrongs he's done her might dis- 
courage him. 

Tres. Neither those wrongs, nor his own 
shape, can fright him. 
He sent for leave to visit her this morning, 
And she was forc'd to keep her bed to avoid him : 
But see, she is arriv'd ; — will you along 
To see this doleful ceremony ? 



26 RICHARD III. 

Stan. I'll wait upon you. [ExeuntR.n. t.%, 

Enter Gloster, l.h. 

Glos. 'Twas ber excuse to avoid me. Alas ! 
She keeps no bed : — 
She has health enough to progress far as 

Chertsey, 
Though not to bear the sight of me. 
I cannot blame her ; — 

Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb j 
And, for I should not deal in his soft laws, 
He did corrupt frail nature with a bribe, 
To shrink my arm up like a wither'd shrub. 
To make an envious mountain on my back, 
Where sits deformity to mock my body ; 
To shape my legs of an unequal size, 
To disproportion me in every part. 
And am 1 then a man to be belov'd ? 
Oh monstrous thought ! more vain than my am- 
bition. 

Enter Lieutenant, hastily, l.h. 

Lieut. My lord, I beg your grace — 

Glos. Be gone, fellow ! Fm not at leisure. 

Lieut. My lord, the king your brother's taken 

ill. 
Glos. I'll wait on him : leave me friend. 

[Exit, Lieut, l.h. 
Ha ! Edward taken ill ! 

Would he were wasted, marrow, bones, and all, 
That from his loins no more young brats may rise, 



RICHARD III. 2!7 

To cross me in the golden time I look for. 

Enter Lady Anne, in mourning. Lord Stanley, 

Tressei, Guards and Bearers, with 

King Henry" s Body, r.h. u.e. 

But see, my love appears ! — Look where she 

shines, 
Darting" pale lustre, like the silver moon, 
Through her dark veil of rainy sorrow ! 
So mournM the dame of Ephesus her love; 
And thus the soldier, arm'd with resolution, 
Told his soft tale, and was a thriving wooer. 
'Tis true, my form perhaps may little move her, 
But Pve a tongue shall wheedle with the devil : 
Why, I can smile, and murder while 1 smile ; 
And cry, content, to that which grieves my 

heart ; 
And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, 
And frame my face to all occasions. 
Yet hold, she mourns the man that I have kill'd. 
First let her sorrows take some vent: — stand 

here ; 
I'll take her passion in its wane, and turn 
This storm of grief to gentle drops of pity, 
For his repentant murderer. {Retires r.h, u.e.) 
Lady A. {Advancing to the centre of the. stage.') 
Hung be the heavens with black ; yield day to 

night : 
Comets importing change of times and states, 
Brandish your fiery tresses in the sky, 
And with them scourge the bad revolting stars, 
That have consented to king Henry's death. 



MM 



28 RICHARD III. 

Oh ! be accurst the hand that shed his blood, 
Accurst the head, that had the heart to do it j 
If ever he have wife, let her be made 
More miserable by the life of him, 
Than I am now by Edward's death and thine. 
Glos. Poor girl, what pains she takes to curse 

herself! {Aside.) 
Lady A. If ever he have child, abortive be it, 
Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, 
Whose hideous form, whose most unnatural as- 
pect, 
May fright the hopeful mother at her view, 
And that be heir to his unhappiness !* 
Now on to Chertsey, with your sacred load. 
Glos. (Advancing l.h.) Stay, you that bear 

the corse, and set it down. 
Lady A. What black magician conjures up 
this fiend. 
To stop devoted charitable deeds? 

Glos. Villains, set down the corse ; or, by St. 
Paul, 
I'll make a corse of him that disobeys. 

Guard. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin 

pass. 
Glos. Unmanner'd slave ! stand thou when I 
command : 
Advance thy halbert higher than my breast, 
Or, by St. Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot, 
And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. 
Lady A. Why dost thou haunt him thus, un- 
sated fiend ? 

* Disposition to mischief.- 



RICHARD III. 29 

Thou hast but power over his mortal body ; 
His soul thou canst not reach, therefore be gone. 
Glos. Sweet saint, be not so hard, for charity. 
Lady A. If thou delight to view thy heinous 
deeds, 
Behold this pattern of thy butcheries. 
Why didst thou do this deed ? Could not the 

laws 
Of man, of nature, nor of heav'n dissuade thee ? 
No beast so fierce, but knows some touch of 
pity. 
Glos. If want of pity be a crime so hateful, 
Whence is it thou, fair excellence, art guilty ? 
Lady A. What means the slanderer ? 
Glos. Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, 
Of these my crimes suppos'd, to give me leave 
By circumsiance but to acquit myself. 

Lady A. Then take that sword, whose bloody 
point still reeks 
With Henry's life, with my lov'd lord's, young 

Edward's, 
And here let out thy own, to appease their 
ghosts. 
Glos. By such despair, 1 should accuse myself. 
Lady A. Why, by despairing only canst thou 
stand excus'd ! 
Didst thou not kill this king ? 
Glos. I grant ye. 

Lady A. O he was gentle, loving, mild, and 
virtuous ; — 
But he's in heaven, where thou canst never 
come. 

3 * 



30 RICHARD III. 

Glos. Was I not kind to send him thither, 
then? 
He was much fitter for that place than earth. 
Lady A. And thou unfit for any place, but 
hell. 

Glos. Yes, one place else ; If you will hear 

me name it. 
Lady A. Some dungeon. 
Glos. Your bed-chamber. 
Lady A. Ill rest betide the chamber where 

thou liest. 
Glos. So it will, madam, till I lie in your's. 
Lady A. I hope so. 

Glos. I know so. But, gentle lady Anne, — 
To leave this keen encounter of our tongues, 
And fall to something of more serious method ; 
Is not the causer of the untimely deaths 
Of these Plantagenets, Henry, and Edward, 
As blameful as the executioner ? 

Lady A. Thou wert the cause, and most ac- 
curst effect. 
Glos. Your beauty was the cause of that effect : 
Your beauty, that did haunt me in my sleep 
To undertake the death of all the world, 
So I might live one hour in that soft bosom ! 

Lady A. If I thought that, 1 tell thee, homicide, 
These hands should rend that beauty from my 
cheeks. 
Glos. These eyes could not endure that beau- 
ty's wreck: 
You should not blemish it, if I stood by : 
As all the world is nourish'd by the sun. 
So I by that : it is my day, my life ! 



RICHARD III. 31 

Lady A. I would it were, to be revenged on ' 

thee. 
Glos. It is a quarrel most unnatural, 
To wish revenge on him that loves thee. 

Lady A. Say, rather, 'tis my duty, 
To seek revenge on him that kill'd my husband. 
Glos. Fair creature he that kill'd thy husband 
Did it to help thee to a better husband. 

Lady A. His better does not breathe upon the 

earth. 
Glos. He lives that loves thee better than he 

could. 
Lady A. Name him. 
Glos. Plantagenet. 
Lady A. Why that was he. 
Glos. The selfsame name, but one of softer 

nature. 
Lady A. Where is he ? 
Glos. Ah, take more pity in thy eyes, and see 

him — here ! 
Lady A. Would they were basilisks to strike 

thee dead. (Crosses to r.h.) 
Glos. I would they were, that I might die at 
once, 
For now they kill me with a living death ; 
Darting, with cruel aim, despair and love ! 
I never sued to friend or enemy : 
My tongue could never learn soft, soothing 

words : 
But now thy beauty is propos d my fee, 
My proud he^rt sues, and prompts my tongue to 
speak. 
Lady A. Is there a tongue on earth can speak 
for thee : 



32 RICHARD III. 

Why dost thou court my hate ? 

Glos. Oh teach not thy soft lips such cold 
contempt. 
If thy relentless heart cannot forgive, 
Lo ! here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword, 
Which, if thou please to hide in this true breast, 
And let the honest soul out that adores thee ; 
I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, 

(She takes the sword.) 
And humbly beg that death upon my knee. 

{Kneels.) 
Lady A. What shall I say or do ! Direct me, 

heaven ! (Aside.) 
Glos. Nay, do not pause, for I did kill king 
Henry ! 

(She offers to strike.) 
But 'twas thy wondrous beauty did provoke me ; 
Or now despatch — 'twas 1 that stabb'd young 
Edward : 

(She offers to strike.) 
But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on ! 
And I might still persist (so stubborn is 
My temper) to rejoice at what I've done : 

(She offers to strike.) 
But that thy powerful eyes (as roaring seas 
Obey the changes of the moon) have turn'd 
My heart, and made it flow with penitence. 

(She drops the sword.) 
Take up the sword again or take up me. 
Lady A. No, though I wish thy death, 
I will not be thy executioner. 

(He takes up the sword.) 
Glos. (Rises.) Then bid me kill myself, and I 
will do it. 



RICHARD Iir. 33 

Lady A. I have already. 
Glos. That was in thy rage ; 
Say it again, and even with thy word, 
This guilty hand, that robb'd thee of thy love,. 
Shall, for thy love, revenge thee on thy lover ; 
To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary. 
Tres. By heaven, she want's the heart to bid 
him do't ! (Aside to Stan.) 

Stan. What think you now, sir ? 

(Aside to Tres.) 
Tres. I'm struck ! I scarce can credit what I 
see. (Aside to Stan.) 

Stan. Why, you see,— a woman ! 

(Aside to Tres.) 
Glos. What, not a word, to pardon or con- 
demn me ? 
But thou art wise, — and canst with silence kill 

me; 
Yet even in death my fleeting soul pursues thee:- 
Dash not the tears of penitence away ! 

Lady A. Would'st thou not blame me to for- 
give thy crimes ? 
Glos. They are not to be forgiven ; no, not 
even 
Penitence can atone 'em ! — Oh misery 
Of thought, — that strikes me with at once re- 
pentance 
And despair ! — Though unpardon'd, yield me 
pity! 
Lady A. Would 1 knew thy heart ! 
Glos. 'Tis figured in my tongue. 
Lady A. I fear me, both are false. 
Glos. Then never man was true ! 



34 RICHARD III. 

Lady A. Put up thy sword. 

Glos. Say, then, my peace is made. 

Lady A. That shalt thou know hereafter. 

Glos. But shall I live in hope ? 

Lady A. All men, 1 hope, live so. 

{lie sheaths his sword.) 

Glos. I swear, bright saint, 1 am not what I 
was. 
Those eyes have turn'd my stubborn heart to 

woman ; 
Thy goodness makes me soft in penitence, 
And my harsh thoughts are turned to peace and 

love. 
Oh ! if thy poor devoted servant might 
But beg one favour at thy gracious hand, 
Thou would'st confirm his happiness for ever. 

Lady A. What is't ? 

Glos. That it may please thee leave these sad 
designs 
To him that has most cause to be a mourner, 
And presently repair to Crosby house ; 
Where, — after I have solemnly interr'd 
At Chertsey monast'ry this injur'd king, 
And wet his grave with my repentant tears, — . 
I will with all expedient duty see you. 
For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you, 
Grant me this fovour. 

Lady A. I do, my lord, — and much it joys 
me too, 
To see you are become so penitent ! — 
Tressel, and Stanley, go along with me, 

Glos. Bid me farewell. 



RICHARD III. 35 

Lady A. 'Tis more than you deserve : 
But, since you teach me how to flatter you, 
Imagine I have said farewell, already. 

[Exeunt Lady A. Stan, and Tres. r.h. 

Guard. Towards Chertsey, my lord? 

Glos. No, to White-friars; there attend my 
coming. 

[Exeunt Guards, with the body, l.h.u.e. 
Was ever woman in this humour woo'd ? 
Was ever woman in this humour won ? 
I'll have her, — but I will not keep her long. "* 
What ! I, that kill'd her husband, and his father, 
To take her in her heart's extremest hate ; 
With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, 
The bleeding witness of my hatred by; 
Having heav'n, her conscience, and these bars 

against me, 
And I no friends to back my suit withal, 
But the plain devil, and dissembling looks ! 
And yet to win her, — all the world to nothing I 
Can she abase her beauteous eyes on me, 
Whose all, not equals Edward's moiety ? 
On me that halt, and am mis-shapen thus ! 
My dukedom to a widow's chastity, 
I do mistake my person, all this while : 
Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot, 
Myself to be a marvellous proper* man. 
I'll have my chambers lined with looking -glass ; 
And entertain a score or two of tailors, 
To study fashions to adorn by body ; 
Since I am crept in favour with myself, 

* Proper in the old language, was handsome, 



36 RICHARD III. 

I will maintain it with some little cost. 
But, first, I'll turn St. Harry to his grave, 
And then return lamenting to my love. — 
Shine out, fair sun, till I salute my glass, 
That I may see my shadow as I pass. 

[Exit, L.H. 

SCENE II.— Baynard's Castle. 

Enter Buckingham, hastily, l.h. ; meeting Lord 
Stanley, r.h. 

Buck. Did you see the duke ? 

Stan. What duke, my lord ? 

Buck. His grace of Gloster, did you see him ? 

Stan. Not lately, my lord ; — I hope no ill 

news. 
Buck. The worst that heart e'er bore, or 
tongue can utter. 
Edward the king, his royal brother's, dead ! 

{Crosses to r.h.) 
Stan. 'Tis sad indeed ! — I wish by your im- 
patience 
To acquaint him though, you think it so to him : 

{Aside.) 
Did the king, my lord, make any mention 
Of a protector for his crown and children ? 

Buck. He did ; — Duke Richard has the care 

of both. 
Stan. That sad news you are afraid to tell him 
too. {Aside.) 

Buck. He'll spare no toils, I'm sure, to fill his 
place. 



RICHARD III. 37 

Stan. Pray heav'n he's not too diligent. {Aside.) 
My lord, — is not that .the duchess of York, 
The king's mother ? coming I fear, to visit him. 

Buck. 'Tis she, — little thinking what has be- 
fall'n us. 

Enter Duchess of York, r.h. 

Due. Y. Good day, my lords ; how takes the 

king his rest ? 
Buck. Alas ! madam, too well ! — he sleeps for 

ever. 
Due. Y. Dead ! good heav'n, support me ! 
Buck, Madam, 'twas my unhappy lot to hear 
His last departing groans, and close his eyes. 
Due. Y. Another taken from me, too ! why, 
just heav'n, 
Am I still left the last in life and woe ? 
First I bemoan'd a noble husband's death, 
Yet liv'd with looking on his images : 
But now my last support is gone : — first Cla- 
rence, 
Now Edward, is forever taken from me : 
And I must now of force sink down with sorrow. 
Buck. Your youngest son, the noble Richard, 
lives : 
His love, I know, will feel his mother's cares, 
And bring new comfort to your latter days. 
Due. Y. 'Twere new indeed ! for yet of him 
I've none, 
Unless a churlish disposition may 
Be counted, from a child, a mother's comfort. 
Where is the queen, my lord? 
4 



.& 



,38 RICHARD III. 

Buck. I left her with her kinsmen, deep ift 
sorrow, 
Who have with much ado persuaded her 
To leave the body. — Madam, she is here. 

Enter Queen, Oxford, and Blunt, l.h. 

Queen. (Speaking as she enters.) Why do you 
thus oppose my grief? Unless, 

To make me rave and weep the faster ? Ha ! 

My mother too in tears ! fresh sorrow strikes 

My heart at sight of every friend that lov'd 

My Edward living ; — Oh mother, he's dead ! 

Edward, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead ! 

Oh ! that my eyes could weep away my soul ; 

Then I might follow, worthy of his hearse. 
Stan. Your duty, madam, of a wife, is dead, 

And now the mother's only claims your care. 

Think on the prince your son ; — send for him 
strait, 

And let his coronation clear your eyes ; 

Bury your griefs in the dead Edward's grave, 

Revive your joys on living Edward's throne. 
Queen. Alas! that thought but adds to my af- 
flictions. 

New tears for Edward gone, and fears for Ed- 
ward living; 

An helpless child in his minority, 

Is in the trust of his stern .uncle Gloster, 

A man that frowns on me, and all of mine. 
Buck. Judge not so hardly, madam, of his love: 

Your son will find in him a father's care. 



RICHARD III. 39 



Enter Gloster, m.d. 

Glos. Why, ah ! these tears look well ;— sor- 
row's the mode, 
And every one at court must wear it now : 
With all my heart ; I'll not be out of fashion. 

[Aside.) 
Queen. My lord, just heaven knows 1 never 
hated Gloster ; 
But would, on any terms embrace his friendship. 
Buck. These words would make him weep ; 
— I know him your's ; 
See where he comes in sorrow for our loss. 
Glos. (In Centre.) My lords, good morrow, — - 
Cousin of Buckingham, ( Weeps.) 
I am your's. 

Buck. Good morning to your grace. 
Glos. Methinks 
We meet like men that had forgot to speak. 

Buck. We may remember, — but our argument 
Is now too mournful to admit much talk. 

Glos. It is indeed. Peace be with him that 
made it so ! 
Sister take comfort — 'tis true, we've all cause 
To mourn the dimming of our shining star ; 
But sorrow never could revive the dead ; 
And if it could, hope would prevent our tears : 
So, we must weep, because we weep in vain. 
Madam, my mother ! — I do cry you, mercy, 
My grief was .blind,-— I did not see your grace. 

(Crosses to Duchess.) 
Most humbly on my knees, I crave your blessing. 



40 RICHARD III. 

Due. Y. (r.h.) Thou hast it, and may thy chari- 
table 
Heart and tongue love one another ! may heav'n 
Endow thy breast with meekness and obedience. 
(Duchess, crosses behind to Queen, l.h.) 
Glos. Amen ; and make me die a good old man ! 
That's the old but-end of a mother's blessinsr : 
I marvel, that her grace did leave it out. 

(Aside.) 
Buck. My lords, I think 'twere fit that now 
Prince Edward, 
Forthwith from Ludlow should be sent for home, 
In order to his coronation. 

Glos. By all means, my lords ; — Come, let's 
to council, (Crosses to Centre.) 

And appoint who shall be the messengers : 

[Exeunt Oxford and Blunt, l.h.d. 
Madam, and you, my sister, please you go 
To give your sentiments on this occasion. 

Queen. My lord your wisdom needs no help 
from me ; — 
My glad consent you have in all that's just, 
Or for the people's good, though i suffer by't. 
Glos. Please you to retire, madam, we shall 
propose 
What you'll not think the people's wrong, noT 
yours. 
Queen May heaven prosper all your good in- 
tents ! 

[Exeunt all but Glos. and Buck, l.h.d. 
Glos. Amen, with all my hearty for mine's the 
crown, 



RICHARD III. 41 

And is not that a good one ? — Ha ! pray'd she 
not well cousin ? 
Buck. 1 hope she prophecy'd — you now stand 

fair. 
Glos. Now, by St. Paul, I feel it here ; — me* 
thinks 
The massy weight on't galls my laden brow : 
What think'st thou, cousin, were't not an easy 

matter 
To get Lord Stanley's hand to help it on ? 
Buck. My lord, I doubt that; for his father's 
sake, 
He loves the prince too well ; he'll scarce be 

won 
To any thing against him. 

Glos. Poverty, the reward of honest fools, 
O'ertake him for't ; — what think'st thou then of 
Hastings. 
Buck. He shall be try'd, my lord ; — I'll find 
out Catesby, 
Who shall at subtle distance sound his thoughts : 
But we must still suppose the worst may hap- 
pen : — 
What if we find him cold in our design ? 

Glos. Chop off his head : — something we'll 
soon determine ; 
But haste and find out Catesby ; 

(Buck. Crosses to l.h.) 
That done, follow me to the council-chamber ; 
We'll not be seen together much, nor have 
It known that we confer in private ; — therefore 
Away, good cousin. 

Buck. I am gone, my lord. [Exit-, L.H. 

4* 



42 RICHARD III. 

Glos< Thus far we run before the wind, 

My fortune smiles, and gives me all that I dare 
ask. 

The conquer'd lady Anne is bound in vows ! 

Fast as the priest can make us, we are one. 

The king, my brother, sleeps without his pillow, 

And I'm left guardian of his infant heir. 

Let me see : — 

The prince will soon be here; — let him! the 
crown ! 

Oh yes ! he shall have twenty ; globes and scep- 
tres too : 

New ones made to play withal, — but no coro- 
nation ; 

No, nor any court-flies about him, — no kinsmen. 

Hold ye ; — where shall he keep his court ? — 
The Tower?— 

Aye ; — the Tower. [Exit, r.il 



end OF ACT II. 



RICHARD III. 43 

ACT III. 
SCENE I.— Crosby Palace. 

Prince Edward, Gloster, Buckingham, Lorb 
Stanley, Tressel, and Attendants , discovered. 

Glos. (r,h. of Prince E.) Now, my royal cou- 
sin,* welcome to London : 
Welcome to all those honour' d dignities, 
Which by your father's will, and by your birth. 
You stand the undoubted heir possess'd of: 
And, if my plain simplicity of heart 
May take the liberty to shew itself; 
You're farther welcome to your uncle's care 
And love. — Why do you sigh, my lord ? 
The weary way has made you melancholy. 
Prince E. (Seated in the centre.) No, uncle ; 
but our crosses on the way, 
Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy : 
I want more uncles here to welcome me ! 

Tres. (l.h.) More uncles ! what means his 
highness ? (Aside to Stanley.) 

■Stan, (l.h.) Why, sir, the careful duke of 
Gloster has 



* Cousin was the terra used in Shakspeare's time, by 
uncles, to nephews and nieces ; grandfathers, to grand- 
children ; &c. It seems to have been used instead of o$r 
kinsman, and kinswoman. 



44 KICHARD III. 

Secur'd his kinsmen on the way ; — Lord Rivers, 

Grey, 
Sir Thomas Vaughan, and others of his friends, 
Are prisoners now in Pomfret castle : 
On what pretence it boots not ; — there they are, 
Let the devil and the duke alone to accuse 'em. 

, (Aside to Tressel.) 
Glos. My lord, the mayor of London comes to 
greet you. 

Enter Lord Mayor, and Suite^ l.h.d. 

Lord M. Vouchsafe, most gracious sovereign* 
to accept 
The general homage of your loyal city : 
We farther beg your royal leave to speak 
In deep condoleme^t of your father's loss ; 
And as far as our true sorrow will permit, 
To 'gratulate your accession to the throne. 
Prince E. I thank you, good my lord, and 
thank you all. 
Alas ! my youth is yet unfit to govern, 
Therefore the sword of justice is in abler hands : 

(Pointing to Gloster.) 
But be assured of this, (Rising.) so much already 
I perceive I love you, that though I know not 

yet 
To do you offices of good, yet this I know, 
I'll sooner die than basely do you wrong. (Sits.) 
Glos. So wise so young, they say, do ne'er live 
long. (Aside.) 

Prince E. My lords, 
! thought my mother, and my brother York, 



RICHARD III. 46 

Would long ere this have met us on the way : 
Say, uncle Gloster, if our brother come, 
Where shall we sojourn till our coronation ? 
Glos. Where it shall seem best to your royal 
self. 
May I advise you, sir, some day or two 
Your highness shall repose you at the Tower ; 
Then, where you please, and shall be thought 

most fit 
For your best health and recreation. 

Prince E. Why at the Tower? But be it as 

you please. 
Buck. (r.h. of Glos.) My lord, — your brother's 
grace of York. 

Enter Duke and Duchess of York, l.h.d. 

Prince E. Richard of York ! how fares our 
dearest brother ? 

(Rising and embracing him.) 
Duke Y. Oh, my dear lord! So I must call 

you now. 
Prince E* Ay, brother, to our grief, as it is 
your's. 
Too soon he died who might have better worn 
That title, which in me will lose its majesty. 
Glos. How fares our cousin, noble lord of 

York? 
Duke Y. (Crosses to Glos.) Thank you kindly, 
dear uncle : — oh, my lord ! 

(Prince E. salutes the Duchess,) 
You said that idle weeds were fast in growth; 
The king, my brother, has outgrown me far. 



46 RICHARD III. 

Glos. He has, my lord. 
Duke Y And therefore, is he idle ? 
Glos. Oh, pretty cousin, ' must not say so. 
Duke Y. Nay, uncle, I don't believe the say- 
ing's true, 
For, if it were, you'd be an idle weed. 
Glos. How so, cousin ? 

Duke Y. Because i have heard folks say, you 
grew so fast, 
Your teeth would gnaw a crust at two hours 

oid: 
Now, 'twas two years ere I could get a tooth. 
Glos. Indeed! I find the brat is taught this 
lesson. — (Aside.) 
Who told thee this, my pretty merry cousin ? 
Duke Y. Why, your nurse uncle. 
Gins, My nurse, child ! she was dead 'fore thou 

wert born. 
Duke Y. If 'twas not she, I can't tell who told 
me. (Crosses to Duchess.) 

Glos. So subtle, too ! — 'tis pity thou art short- 
lived. (Aside.) 
Prince E. My brother, uncle, will be cross in 

talk. 
Glos. Oh, fear not, my lord ; we shall never 

quarrel. 
Prince E. I hope your grace knows how to 

bear with him. 
Duke Y. You mean to bear me, — not to bear 
with me. (Crosses to Gloster.) 

tJncle, my brother mocks both you and me : 



RICHARD III. 47 

Because that I am little, like an ape,* 
He thinks that you should bear me on your shoul- 
ders. (Crosses to l.h.) 

Prince E. Fy e, brother, I have no such meaning. 

Glos. My lord, wilt please you pass along ? 
Myself, and my good cousin of Buckingham, 
Will to your mother, to intreat of her 
To meet and bid you welcome at the Tower. 

Duke Y. What ! will you to the Tower, my 
dear lord ? 

Prince E. My lord protector will have it so. 

Duke Y. I shaVt sleep in quiet at the Tower. 

Glos. I'll warrant you ; — King Henry lay there, 
And he sleeps in quiet. (Aside.) 

Prince E. What should you fear, brother ? 

Duke Y. My uncle Clarence' ghost, my lord ; 
My grandmother told me he was kill'd there. 

Prince E. I fear no uncles dead. 

Glos. Nor any, sir, that live, 1 hope. 

Prince E. I hope so too ; but come, my lords, 
To the Tower, since it must be so. 

(Exeunt all but Gloster and Buckingham, l.h.) 

Buck. Think you, my lord, this little prating 
York 
Was not instructed by his subtle mother, 
To taunt and scorn you thus opprobriously ? 

Glos. No doubt, no doubt ; oh, ' tis a shrewd 
young master : 
Stubborn, bold, quick, forward, and capable ! 

* At country shows it was common to set the mon- 
key on the back of some other animal, as a bear. The 
duke, therefore, in calling himself ape, calls his uncle 
Bear* 



48 RICHARD III. 

He's all the mother's, from the top to toe ; 
But let them rest ; — now what says Catesby ? 

Buck. My lord, 'tis much as I suspected, and 
He's here himself to inform you. 

Enter Catesby, l.h. 

Glos. So, Catesby ; — hast thou been tampering t 
What news ? 

CaUs. My lord, according to th' instruction 
given me, 
With words at distance dropt, I sounded Hastings^ 
Piercing how far he did affect your purpose ; 
To which indeed 1 found him cold, unwilling : . 
The sum is this ; — he seem'd awhile to under- 
stand me not, 
At length, from plainer speaking, urg'd to answer,. 
He said in heat, rather than wrong the head 
To whom the crown was due, he'd lose his own. 
Glos. Indeed ! his own then answer for that 
saying : 
He shall be taken care of: — meanwhile, Catesby, 
Be thou near me. — (Catesby retires^ r.h.) — 

Cousin of Buckingham, 
Let's lose no time ; — the mayor and citizens 
Are now at busy meeting in Guildhall. 
Thither I'd have you haste immediately, 
And at your meetest 'vantage of the time, 
Improve those hints I gave you late to speak of ; 
But above all, infer the bastardy 
Of Edward's children. 
Nay, for a need, taint thus far Edward's self.-* 



RICHARD III. 49 

Say thus : 

When he was born, my sire had wars in France ; 
Nor bears he semblance to the duke of York. 
Yet touch this sparingly, as 'twere far off, 
Because, my lord, you know, my mother lives. 

Buck. Doubt not, my lord, I'll play the orator, 
As if myself might wear the golden fee 
For which I plead. 

Glos. If you thrive well, bring 'em to see me 
here, 
Where you shall find me seriously employ'd, 
With the most learned fathers of the church* 

Buck. I fly, my lord, to serve you. 

(Crosses to l.h.) 

Glos. To serve thyself, my cousin ; 
For look, when I am king, claim thou of me 
The earldom of Hereford, and all those moveables 
Whereof the king my brother stood possess'd. 

Buck. I shall remember that your grace was 
bountiful. 

Glos. Cousin, I have said it. 

Buck. I am gone, my lord. [Exit, l.h. 

Glos. So, I've secured my cousin here. These 
moveables 
Will never let his brains rest, till I'm king. (Aside.) 
Catesby, go you with speed to doctor Shaw, 
And thence to friar Beuker ; — bid 'em both 
Attend me here, within an hour at farthest : 
Meanwhile my private orders shall be given 

[Exit Catesby, r.h. 
To lock out all admittance to the princes. 
Now, by St. Paul, the work goes bravely on ! 
How many frightful stops would conscience make 
5 






50 RICHARD III. 

In some soft heads, to undertake like me ? 

Come, this conscience is a convenient scare- 
crow ; 

It guards the fruit which priests and wise men 
taste, 

Who never set it up to fright themselves ; 

They know 'tis rags, and gather in the face on't ; 

While half-starv'd shallow daws thro' fear are 
honest. 

Why were laws made, but that we're rogues by 
nature 1 

Conscience ! 'tis our coin, we live by parting 
with it ; 

And he thrives best that has the most to spare. 

The protesting lover buys hope with it ; 

And the deluded virgin short-liv'd pleasure ; 

Old grey-beards cram their avarice with it ; 

Your lank-jaw'd hungry judge will dine upon't, 

And hang the guiltless, rather than eat his mutton 
cold : 

The crown'd head quits it for despotic sway, 

The stubborn people for unaw'd rebellion. 

There's not a slave but has his share of villain ; 

Why then shall after ages think my deeds 

Inhuman ? since my worst are but ambition. 

Ev'n all mankind to some lov'd ills incline : 

Great men choose greater sins, ambition's mine. 

[Exit, R.H* 

SCENE II. — Another Room in Crosby Palace. 

Lady Anne, discovered sitting on a couch. 

Lady A. When, when shall I have rest ! Was 
marriage made 



-*«*- — tt r . 



RICHARD III. 51 

To be the scourge of our offences here ? 

Oh ! no ; — 'twas meant a blessing to the virtuous ; 

It once was so to me, though now my curse. 

But see, 

He comes, the rude disturber of my pillow. 

Enter Gloster, l.h.d. 

Glos. Ha ! still in tears ! let them flow on : 
they're signs 
Of a Substantial grief: — why don't she die ? 
She must, my interest will not let her live ; 
The fair Elizabeth hath caught my eye ; 
My heart's vacant, and she shall fill her place. 
They say that women have but tender hearts : 
'Tis a mistake, I doubt ! — I've found 'em tough ; 
They'll bend, indeed, — but he must strain that 

cracks 'em. 
All I can hope's to throw her into sickness, 
That I may send her a physician's help. (Aside.) 
So, madam, what ! you still take care, I see, 
To let the world believe I love you not. 
This outward mourning now has malice in't, 
So have these sullen disobedient tears ; 
I'd have you tell the world I doat upon you. 
Lady A. I wish I could ; — but 'twill not be 
believ'd. 
Have I deserv'd this usage ? 

Glos. You have ; — you do not please me, as 

at first. 
Lady A. What have I done 1 What horrid 
crime committed ? 



52 RICHARD HI. 

Gbs. To me the worst of crimes ; outliv'd my 

liking. 
Lady A. If that be criminal, — just heav'n be 
kind, 
And take me while my penitence is warm ; 
Oh, sir, forgive and kill me. 

Glos. Umph ! the meddling world will call that 
murder, 
And 1 would have them think me pitiful : 
Wow, wert thou not afraid of self-destruction, 
Thou hast a fair excuse for't. 

Lady A. How fain would I be friends with death ! 
— Oh name it. 

Glos. Thy husband's hate : nor do I hate thee 
only 
From the dull'd edge of sated appetite, 
But from the eager love I bear another. 
Some call me hypocrite, what think'st thou, now ? 
Do I dissemble ? 

Lady A. Thy vows of love to me were all 

dissembled. 
Glos. Not one ; — for when I told thee so, I 
loved : 
Thou art the only soul I never yet deceiv'd ; 
And 'tis my honesty that tells thee now, 
With all my heart I hate thee. 
If this have no effect, she is immortal. (Aside.) 
Lady A. Forgive me, heav'n, that I forgave 
this man. 
Oh may my story, told in after ages, 
Give warning to our easy sex's ears ; 
May it unveil the hearts of men, and strike 
Them deaf to their dissimulated love ! 



RICHARD III. £3 

Enter Catesby, l.h.d. 

Glos. Now, Catesby — 

Gates. My lord, his grace of Buckingham 

attends your highness' pleasure. 
Glos. Wait on him ; — I'll expect him here. 

[Exit Catesby, l.h.d. 
Your absence, madam, will be necessary. 

Lady A. Would my death were so ! [Exit, r.h. 
Glos. It may be, shortly. 

Enter Catesby and Buckingham, l.h.d. 

Now cousin, what say the citizens ? 

[Exit Catesby, r.h.d. 
Buck. Now by our hopes, my lord, they are 
senseless stones : 
Their hesitating fear has struck 'em dumb. 
Glos. T ouch'd you the bastardy ot Edward's 

children ? 
Buck. I did ; with his contract to lady Lucy ;* 
Nay, his own bastardy, and tyranny for trifles ; 

* The king hart been familiar with this lady before his 
marriage ; to obstruct which, his mother alledged a pre- 
contract between them. " Whereupon," says the historian, 
" dame Elizabeth Lucye was sente for, and albeit she was 
by the kyng hys mother, and many other, put in good 
comfort to affirme that she was assured to the kinge, yet 
when she was solemnly sworne to say ye truth, she con- 
fessed she was never ensured. Howbeit, she sayd his 
grace spake suche loving wordes to her, that she verily 
hoped that he would have married her ; and that yf such 
kind wordes had not bene ; she woulde never have showed 
such kindnesse to him to lette hym so kyndely gette her 
wyth chylde. Hall, Edward v. fo. 19." 



l l ii " 'in iT Tifli " H i ' ~~ ~ L ~r ■ i n 



M RICHARD III. 

Laid open all your victories in Scotland, 
Your discipline in war, wisdom in peace, 
Your bounty, justice, fair humility ; 
Indeed, left nothing that might gild our cause 
Untouch'd, or slightly handled, in my talk : 
And, when my oration drew towards an end, 
I urged of them, that lov'd their country's good, 
To do you right, and cry, Long live King Richard. 
Glos. And did they so ? 
Buck. Not one, by heav'n ; — but each like 

statues fix'd, 
Speechless and pale, star'd in his fellow's face : 
Which when I saw, I reprehended them ; 
And ask'd the mayor, what meant this wilful 

silence : 
His answer was, — the people were not us'd 
To be spoken to, but by the Recorder : 
Who then took on him to repeat my words ; 
Thus saith the duke, thus hath the duke inferred ; 
But nothing urg>d in warrant from himself. 
When he had done, some followers of my own, 
At th' lower end o'th'hall, hurl'd up their caps, 
And some ten voices cry'd, God save King Richard! 
At which I took the 'vantage of those few, 
And cry'd, Thanks, gentle citizens, and friends, 
This general applause, and cheerful shout, 
Argues your isoisdom, and your love to Richard ; 
And even here broke off, and came away. 
Glos. Oh tongueless blocks ! would they not 

speak ? 
Will not the mayor then, and his brethren come ? 
Buck. The mayor is here at hand ;— -feign you 

some fear : 



i - ^ 



RICHARD III. 55 

And be not spoken with, but by mighty suit. 
A prayer-book in your hand, my lord, were well, 
Standing- between two churchmen of repute : 
For on that ground I'll make a holy descant ; 
Yet be not easily won to our requests : 
Seem like the virgin, fearful of your wishes. 

Glos. My other self! — my counsel's consistory ! 
My oracle ! my prophet ! my dear cousin ! 
I, as a child, will go by thy direction. 

Buck. Hark ! the lord mayor's at hand : — away, 
my lord ; 
No doubt but yet we reach our point propos'd. 

Glos. We cannot fail, my lord, while you are 
pilot ! 
A little flattery sometimes does well. (Aside.) 

[Exit) R.H.D, 

Enter Lord Mayor and Suite, l.h. 

Buck. Welcome, my lord : I dance attendance 
here ; 
I am afraid, the duke will not be spoke withal. 

Enter Catesby, r.h.d. 

Now, Catesby ! what says your lord to my re- 
quest ? 
Cates. My lord, he humbly does intreat your 
grace 

To visit him to-morrow, or the next day : 

He's now retir'd with two right reverend fathers, 

Divinely bent to meditation ; 

And in no worldly suit would he be mov'd., 



• 



56 RICHARD III. 

To interrupt his holy exercise. 

Buck. Return good Catesby, to the gracious 
duke ; 
Tell him nryself, the mayor, and citizens, 
In deep designs, in matters of great moment, 
No iess importing than our general good, 
Are come to have some conference with his 
grace. 
Catea. My lord, I'll instantly inform his high- 
ness. [Exit. R.H.D. 

Buck. Ah, my lord ! this prince is not an Ed- 
ward ; 
He is not lolling on a lewd love-bed, 
But on his knees at meditation ; 
Not dallying with a brace of courtezans, 
But with too deep divines in sacred praying : 
Happy were England, would this virtuous prince 
Take on himself the toil of sov'reignty ! 

Lord M. Happy indeed, my lord ! 
He will not sure, refuse our profFer'd love. 
Buck. Alas, my lord ! you know him not : his 
mind's 
Above this world ! — he's for a crown immortal. 
Look there, his door opens ; now where's our 
hope ? 
Lord M. See where his grace stands, 'tween 
two clergymen ! {Looking off r.h.) 

Buck. Ay, 'tis there he's caught ; — there's his 

ambition. 
Lord M. How low he bows to thank 'em for 
their care ! 
And see ! a prayer-book in his hand ! 

Buck. Would he were king, we'd give him 
leave to pray : 



RICHARD III. 57 

Methinks I wish it for the love he bears the city. 
How have I heard him vow, he thought it hard 
The mayor should lose his title with his office I 
Well, who knows? He may be won. 

Lord M. Ah, my lord ! 

Buck See, he comes forth ; — my friends, be 
resolute ; 
I know he's cautious to a fault : but do not 
Leave him, till our honest suit be granted. 

Enter Gloster, with a booh, and Catesby, r.h.d. 

Glos Cousin of Buckingham, 
I do beseech your grace to pardon me, 
Who, earnest in my zealous meditation, 
So long deferr'd the service of my friends. 
Now do I fear I've done some strange offence, 
That looks disgracious in the city's eye. If so, 
'Tis just you should reprove my ignorance. 

Buck. You have, my lord ; we wish your grace, 
On our intreaties, would amend your fault. 

Glos. Else wherefore breathe I in a christian 
land ? 

Buck. Know then, it is your fault that you re- 
sign 
The scepter'd office of your ancestors, 
Fair England's throne, your own due right of 

birth, 
To the corruption of a blemishM stock ; 
In this just cause, I come, to move your highnes?, 
That on your gracious self you'd take the charge. 
And kingly government of this your land ; 
Not as protector, steward, substitute, 






58 RICHARD III, 

Or lowly factor for another's gain ; 

But as successively, from blood to blood, 

Your own, by right of birth, and lineal glory. 

Glos. I cannot tell, if to depart in silence. 
Or bitterly to speak in your reproof, 
Fits best with my degree, or your condition ; 
Therefore, — to speak in just refusal of your suit, 
And then in speaking not to check my friends, 
Definitively, thus i answer you : 
Your love deserves my thanks ; but my desert, 
Unmeritable, shuns your fond request ; 
For, heav'n be thank'd, there is no need of me : 
The royal stock has left us royal fruit, 
Which mellow'd by the stealing hours of time, 
Will well become the seat of majesty, 
And make us, no doubt, happy by his reign. 
On him I lay what you would lay on me, 
The right and fortune of his happier stars ; 
Which, heav'n forbid, my thoughts should rob 
him of! 

Lord M. {Kneels with suite.) Upon our knees, 

my lord, we beg your grace 

To wear this precious robe of dignity, 

Which on a child must sit too loose and heavy ; 

'Tis your's, befitting both your wisdom and your 

birth. (They rise.) 

Cates. My lord, this coldness is unkind, 
Nor suits it with such ardent loyalty. 

Buck. Oh make 'em happy, — grant their law- 
ful suit. 

Glos. Alas, why would you heap this care oa 
me? 
I am unfit for state and majesty. 



RICHARD III. 59 

I thank you for your loves, but must declare, 

(I do beseech you take it not amiss,) 

I will not, dare not, must not, yield to you. 

Buck. If you refuse us, through a soft remorse, 
Loth to depose the child your brother's son, 
(As well we know your tenderness of heart,) 
Yet know, though you deny us to the last, 
Your brother's son shall never reign our king, 
But we will plant some other on the throne, 
To the disgrace and downfall of your house : 
And thus resoiv'd I bid you, sir, farewell. 

(Crosses to l.h.) 
My lord and gentlemen, I beg your pardon 
For this vain trouble ; — my intent was good ; 
I would have serv'd my country and my king : 
But 'twill not be. Farewell, till next we meet. 

Lord M. Be not too rash, my lord: his grace 
relents. 

Buck. Away, you but deceive yourselves. 

[Exit, L.H.D. 

Cates, Sweet prince, accept their suit. 

Lord M. If you deny us, all the land will rue it. 

Glos. Call him again. [Catesby crosses and 
Exit, l.h.d.] You will enforce me to 
A world of cares : I am not made of stone r 
But penetrable to your kind intreaties, — 
Though, heaven knows, against my own inclin- 
ing. 

Re-enter Buckingham and Catesby, l.h.d. (Buck- 
ingham crosses to Gloster.) 

Cousin of Buckingham, — and sage, grave men,— 



60 RICHARD III. 

Since you will buckle fortune on my back, 
To bear her burden whether I will or no, 
I must have patience to endure the load ; 
Rut if black scandal, or foul-fac'd reproach, 
Attend the sequel of your imposition, 
Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me ; 
For heaven knows, as you may partly see, 
How far I am from the desire of this. 

Lord M. Heaven guard your grace, we see it, 

and will say it ! 
Glos. You will but say the truth, my lord. 
Buck. My heart's so full, it scarce has vent 
for words : 
My knee will better speak my duty now. 

(All kneel.) 
Long live our sovereign, Richard, king of Eng- 
land ! • • • 
Glos. Indeed, your words have*'to'ucVd me 
nearly, cousin : • , * 
Pray rise. (Ml rise.) I wish you couljj retail 'em. 
Buck. H would be treason now, my lord : to- 
morrow, f 
If it so please your majesty, from council, 
Orders shall be given for your coronation. 
Glos. E'en when you please, for you will have 

it so. 
Buck. To-morrow, then, we will attend your 
majesty ; — 
And now we take our leaves with joy. 

(Crosses to l.h.) 
Glos. Cousin, adieu ; — my loving friends, fare- 
well : 
I must unto my holy work again. 

[Exeunt, all but Gloster, l.h.d. 



■-- ■■ - -- 



RICHARD III. 61 

Why, now my golden dream is out ! 
Ambition, like an early friend, throws back 
My curtains with an eager hand, o'erjoy'd 
To tell me what I dreamt is true. A crown ! 
Thou bright reward of ever-daring minds, 
Oh how thy awful glory wraps my soul ! 
Nor can the means that got thee dim thy lustre : 
For not men's love, fear pays thee adoration. 
And fame not more survives from good than evil 

deeds : 
Th' aspiring youth *that nVd the Ephesian dome, 
Outlives in fame the pious fool that raised it. 
Conscience, lie still ; more lives must yet be 

drain'd ; 
Crowns got with blood, must be with blood 

maintain'd. [Exit, r.h.d* 

END OF ACT III. 



ACT IV. 

SCENE 1.—A Room in the Tower, 

Enter Lady Anne, in tears, Duke of York, 

Queen, Prince Edward, and Duchess of 

York, r.h. 

Prince E. Pray, madam, do not leave me yet, 
For I have many more dbmplaints to tell you. 

* Erostratus ; or, Eratostratus : who set fire to the tem- 
ple of Diana at Ephesus, that his name by such an uncom- 
mon action might descend to posterity. 
6 



62 RICHARD III. 

Queen. And I unable to redress the least ; 
What would'st thou say, my child ? 

Prince E. Oh, mother, since I have lain i'the 
Tower. 
My rest has still been broke with frightful dreams, 
Or shocking" news has wak'd me into tears: 
I'm scarce allow'd a friend to visit me ; 
All my old honest servants are turn'd off, 
And in their room are strange ill-natur'd fellows, 
Who look so bold, as they were all my masters ; 
And I'm afraid they'll shortly take you from me. 

Due, Y. Oh mournful hearing ! 

Lady A. Oh unhappy prince ! 

Duke. Y. Dear brother, why do you weep so ? 
You make me cry too. 

Queen. Alas, poor innocence ! [cle aims ; 

Prince E. Would I but knew at what my un- 
3f 'twere my crown, I'd freely give it him, 
So he'd but let me joy my life in quiet. 

Duke Y. Why, will my uncle kill us, brother ? 

Prince E. I hope he won't ; we never injur'd 
him. 

Queen. I cannot bear to see 'em thus. 

( Weeping.) 

Enter Lord Stanley, l.h.d. 

Stan. Madam, I hope your majesty will pardon 
What I am griev'd to tell ; — unwelcome news. 

Queen. Ah me, more sorrow, yet, my lord ! 
We've long 
Despair' d of happy tidings; pray whatis't? 



RICHARD III. 63 

Stan. On Tuesday last, your noble kinsmen, 
Rivers, 
Grey, and sir Thomas Vaughan, at Pomfret, 
Were executed on a public scaffold. 

Due. Y. Oh dismal tidings ! [is next. 

Prince E. Oh poor uncles! I doubt my turn 

Lady A. Nor mine, I fear, far off. 

Queen. Why then, let's welcome blood and 
massacre ; 
Yield all our throats to the fell tiger's rage, 
And die lamenting one another's wrong. 
Oh ! I foresaw this ruin of our house. {Weeps.) 

Enter Catesby, l.h.d. 

Gates. Madam, the king 
Has sent me to inform your majesty, 
That you prepare (as is advis'd from council,) 
To-morrow for your royal coronation. 

Queen. What do I hear? Support me, heaven ! 

Lady A. Despightful tidings ! — oh, unpleasing 
news ! 
Alas, I heard of this before, but could not, 
For my soul, find heart to tell you of it. ' [jesty. 

Cates. The king does farther wish your ma- 
Would less employ your visits at the Tower ; 
He gives me leave {'attend you to the court, 
And is impatient, madam, till he sees you. 

Lady A. Farewell to all. And thou, poor in- 
jur'd queen, 
Forgive the unfriendly duty I must pay. 

Queen. Alas, kind soul, 1 envy not thy glory ; 
Nor think I'm pleas'd thou'rt partner in our sor- 

Cates. Madam. £row. 



64 RICHARD III. 

Lady A. I come. [glory- 

Queen. Farewell, thou woeful welcomer of 

Gates. Shall I attend your majesty ? 

Lady A. Attend me! Whither? — To be 
crown'd ? 
Let me with deadly venom be anointed, 
And die, ere man can say, — " Long live the 
Queen !'•' [Exit, with Catesby, l.h. 

Stan. Take comfort, madam. 

Queen. Alas ! where is it to be found ? 
Death and destruction follow us so close, 
They shortly must o'ertake us. 

Stan. In Bretany, 
My son-in-law, the earl of Richmond, still 
Resides, who with a jealous eye observes 
The lawless actions of aspiring Gloster : 
To him would I advise you, madam, fly 
Forthwith, for aid, protection, and redress : 
He will, I'm sure, with open arms receive you. 

Due. Y. Delay not, madam; 
For 'tis the only hope that heaven has left us. 

Queen- Do with me what you please ; — for 
Must surely better our condition, [any change 

Stan. 1 farther would advise you, madam, this 
To remove the princes to some [instant 

Remote abode, where you yourself are mistress. 

Prince E. Dear madam, take me hence : for 
Enjoy a moment's quiet here. [I shall ne'er 

Duke Y. Nor I ; pray, mother, let me go too. 

Queen. Come then, my pretty young ones, 
let's away ; 
For here you lie within the falcon's reach, 
Who watches but th' unguarded hour to seize 
you. (Going with her children, l.h.) 



RICHARD III. 65 

Enter Lieutenant, l.h. 

Lieut I beg your majesty will pardon me ; 
But the young princes must, on no account, 
Have egress from the Tower: 
Nor must (without the king's especial license,) 
Of what degree soever, any person 
Have admittance to 'em : — all must retire. 
Queen. I am their mother, sir; who else com- 
mands 'em? 
If I pass freely, they shall follow me. 
For you, I'll take the peril of your fault upon 
myself. [you ; 

Lieut. My inclination, madam, would oblige 
But I am bound by oath, and must obey : 
Nor, madam, can I now with safety answer 
For this continued visit. 

{Gives the "warrant to Stanley.) 
Please you my Lord, to read these orders, 
Queen. Oh, heavenly powers ! shall i not stay 

with them? 
Lieut. Such are the king's commands, madam. 
Queen. My lord ? {To Stanley.) 

Stan. 'Tis too true, — and it were vain t' op- 
pose 'em. 
[Stanley returns the warranty and Exit, l.h. 
Queen. Support me, heaven ! 
For life can never bear the pangs of such a 

parting. 
Oh, my poor children ! Oh, distracting thought ! 
I dare not bid 'em, as I should, farewell ; 
And then to part in silence stabs my soul ! 

Prince E. What, must you leave us, mother ? 
6 * 



S6 RICHARD III. 

Queen. What shall I say ? (Aside.) 
But for a time, my loves : — we shall meet again ; 
At least in heaven. (Aside.) 

Duke Y. Won't you take me with you, mo- 
ther? 
I shall be so 'fraid to stay, when you are gone. 
Queen. I cannot speak to 'em, and yet we must 
Be parted. 

(Duchess of York crosses behind to l.h.) 

Then let these kisses say farewell. [last ! 

Why, oh why, just heaven, must these be our 

Due. Y. Give not your grief such way ; — be 

sudden when you part. 
Queen. 1 will : — since it must be : — to heaven 
I leave 'em ! 
(Kneels. — The Lieut, takes charge of the Princes.) 
Hear me, ye guardian powers of innocence ; 
Awake or sleeping, oh protect 'em still ! 
Still may their helpless youth attract men's pity, 
That when the arm of cruelty is raised, 
Their looks may drop the lifted dagger down 
From the stern murderer's relenting hand, 
And throw him on his knees in penitence ! (Rises.) 
Both Princes. Oh mother, mother ! 
Queen. Oh my poor children 1 — 
[Exeunt Queen and Duchess of York, l.h. Lieu- 
tenant with the Princes, r.h. 

SCENE II.— The Presence Chamber. 

Discovering King Richard, seated ; Buckingham, 
Catesby, Ratcliff, 4-c. 
K. Rich. Stand all apart. — [Exeunt all the Court, 
but Buckingham, Ratcliff, and Catesby, r.h.] 



RICHARD III. 67 

Cousin of Buckingham, — 

Buck. My gracious sovereign. 

K. Rich. Give me thy hand. 
At length by thy advice and thy assistance, 
Ts Gloster seated on the English throne. 
But say, my cousin. — 

What ! shall we wear these glories for a day ? 
Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them ! 

Buck. I hope for ages sir ; — long may they 
grace you ! [the touchstone, 

K. Rich. Oh, Buckingham ! now do I play 
To try if thou be current friend indeed : 
Young Edward lives; — so does his brother 
Now think, what I would speak, [York : — 

Buck. Say on, my gracious lord. [spiders 

K. Rich. I tell thee coz, I've lately had two 
Crawling upon my startled hopes ; — [from me, 
Now, though thy friendly hand has brush'd 'em 
Yet still they crawl offensive to my eyes ; 
I would have some kind friend to tread upon em : 
I would be king, my cousin. 

Buck. Why so I think you are, my royal lord. 

K. Rich. Ha! am I king? 'Tis so ;— but,— 

Buck. Most true, my lord. [Edward lives. 

K. Rich. Cousin, thou wert not wont to be so 
dull. 
Shall 1 be plain ; — I wish the bastards dead ; 
And I would have it suddenly perform'd ; 
Now, cousin, canst thou answer me ? [sure. 

Buck. None dare dispute your highness' plea- 

K. Rich. Indeed ! methinks thy kindness 
freezes, cousin. 
Thou dost refuse me, then !— they shall not die* 



68 RICHARD TIL 

Buck. My lord, since 'tis an action cannot be 
Recall'd, allow me but some pause to think ; 
I'll instantly resolve your highness. [Exit, l.h. 

Cates. The king seems angry, see, he gnaws 
his lip.* 

K. Rich. I'll henceforth deal with shorter- 
sighted fools ; 
None are for me, that look into my deeds 
With thinking eyes ; — 

High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect : 
The best on't is, it may be done without him ; 
Though not so well perhaps ; — had he consented, 
Why then the murder had been his, not mine. 
We'll make shift as 'tis. — Come hither, Catesby : 
Where's that same Tirrel whom thou told's me 
of? [order'd 1 

Hast thou given him those sums of gold I 

Cates. I have, my liege. 

K. Rich. Where is he ? 

Cates. He waits your highness' pleasure. 

K. Rich. Give him this ring, and say myself 
Will bring him farther orders instantly. 

[Exit Catesby, r.h.d, 
The deep-revolving duke of Buckingham 
No more shall be the neighbour to my counsels : 
Has he so long held out with me untir'd, 
And stops he now for breath? — Well, be it so.— 

Enter Lord Stanley, l.h. 

How now, lord Stanley ; — what's the news ? 

* Several of our ancient historians observe, that this 
was the accustomed action of Richard, whether he was 
pensive or angiy. 



-r_- 



RICHARD III. 69 

Stan. I hear, my liege, the lord marquis of 
Is fled to Richmond, now in Bretany. [Dorset 
K. Rich. Why let him go, my lord : he may 
be spar'd. {Crosses to l.h.) 

(Stanley retires up the stage, l.h.) 
Hark thee, Ratcliff, when saw'st thou Anne, my 

queen ? 
Is she still weak ? Has my physician seen her? 
Rat. He has, my lord, and fears her mightily, 
K. Rich. But he's exceeding skilful, she'll 

mend shortly. 
Rat. I hope she will, my lord. [Exit, l.h.d. 
K. Rich. And if she does, I have mistook my 
man. 
I must be married to my brother's daughter, 
At whom J know the Breton,* Richmond, aims ; 
And by that knot looks proudly on the crown. 
But then to stain me with her brother's blood; 
Is that the way to woo the sister's love ? 
No matter what's the way ; — 
Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye ; 
For while they live, 

My goodly kingdom's on a weak foundation. 
'Tis done, my daring heart's resolved ; — they're 
dead ! (Aside.) 

Enter Buckingham, l.h. 

Buck. My lord, I have consider'd in my mind, 

* He thus denominates Richmond, because after the 
battle of Tewksbury, he took refuge in the court of Fran- 
cis II. Duke of Bretagne, where by the intrigues of Ed- 
ward IV. he was kept a long time in a kind of honourable 
custody. 



70 RICHARD III. 

The late request that you did sound me in. 
K. Rich. Well, let that rest. — Dorset is fled 

to Richmond. 
Buck. I have heard the news, my lord. 
K. Rich. Stanley, he's your near kinsman : — 

well, look to him. 
Buck. My lord, I claim that gift, my due by 
promise, 
For which your honour and your faith's engag'd ; 
The earldom of Hereford, and those moveables, 
Which you have promis'd I shall possess. 

K. Rich. Stanley, look to your wife : {Stanley 
advances.) if she convey 
Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it. 

[Exit Stanley, r.h. 
Buck. What says your highness to my just 

request ? 
K. Rich. I do remember me, Harry the Sixth, 
Did prophesy, that Richmond should be king, 
When Richmond was a little peevish boy. 
'Tis odd ! — a king ? Perhaps — 

Enter Catesby, r.h.d. 

Cates, My lord, I have obey'd your highness' 

orders 
Buck. May it please you to resolve me in my 

suit. 
K. Rich. Lead Tirrel to my closet, I'll meet 

him. [Exit Catesby, r.h.d. 

Buck. 1 beg your highness' ear, my lord. 
K. Rich. I'm busy ! — thou troublest me ! — I'm 

not i' th' vein ! [Exit, r.pj.d. 



RICHARD III. 71 

Buck. Oh, patience, heav'n ! is't thus he pays 
my service ? 
Was it for this I rais'd him to the throne ? 
Oh ! if the peaceful dead have any sense 
Of the vile injuries they bore while living; 
Then sure the joyful souls of blood-suck'd Edward,. 
Henry, Clarence, Hastings, and all that through 
His foul, corrupted dealings have miscarry'd, 
Will from the walls of heav'n in smiles look down, 
To see this tyrant tumbling from his throne, 
His fall unmoum'd, and bloody as their own, 

[Exit, L.H. 

SCENE III. — ^ Chamber in the Tower. 
Enter Tirrel, Dighton, and Forest, l.H. 

Tir. Come, gentlemen, 
Have you concluded on the means ? 

Forest. Smothering will make no noise, sir. 

Tir. Let it be done i' th' dark ; — for should 
you see 
Their young faces, who knows how far their looks 
Of innocence may tempt you into pity ? 
Stand back. — 

Enter Lieutenant, r.h. 

Lieutenant, have you brought the keys ? 
Lieut, I have 'em, sir. 

Tir. Then here's your warrant to deliver 'em, 

{Giving a ring.) 



72 RICHARD III. 

Lieut. Your servant, sir. {Crosses to l.h.) 

What can this mean ! why at this dead of night 
To give 'em too ? 'Tis not for me t'inquire. 

{Aside.) 
There, gentlemen ; 

That way ; — you have no further need of me. 
[Exeunt, Lieut, l.h. the others, r.h. 

Enter King Richard, through m.d. 

K. Rich. Would it were done : 
There is a busy something here, 
That foolish custom has made terrible 
To the intent of evil deeds ; and nature too, 
As if she knew me womanish, and weak, 
Tugs at my heart-strings with complaining cries, 
To talk me from my purpose : 
And then the thought of what men's tongues 

will say, — 
Of what their hearts must think ; 
To have no creature love me living, nor 
My memory when dead. 
Shall future ages, when these childrens' tale 
Is told, drop tears in pity of their hapless fate, 
And read with detestation the misdeeds of Gloster, 
The crook-back'd tyrant, cruel, barbarous, 
And bloody ? Will they not say too, 
That to possess the crown, nor laws divine 
Nor human stopt my way ? — Why, let 'em say 
They can't but say I had the crown ; [it : — 
I was not fool as well as villain. 
Hark ! the murder's doing : princes, farewell : 
To me there's music in your passing-bell. 



RICHARD III. To 



Enter Tirrel, r.h. 

Now, my Tirrel, how are the brats dispos'd ? 
Say, am I happy ? Hast thou dealt upon 'em ? 

Tir. If to have done the thing you gave ift 
charge, 
Beget your happiness, — then, sir, be happy, 
For it is done. 

K. Rich. But didst thou see 'em dead ? 

Tir. I did my lord. 

K. Rich. And buried, my good Tirrel ? 

Tir. In that I thought to ask your highness' 
pleasure. 

K. Rich. I have it ; — I'll have 'em sure ; — get 
me a coffin 
Full of holes, let 'em both be cramm'd into it ; 
And hark thee, in the night tide throw 'em down 
The Thames ; — once in, they'll find the way to 

the bottom ; 
Meantime but think how I may do thee good, 
And be inheritor of thy desire. 

Tir. I humbly thank your highness. 

K. Rich. About it strait, good Tirrel. 

Tir. Conclude it done, my lord. [Exit, r.h. 

K. Rich. Why then, my loudest fears are 
hush'd ; 
The sons of Edward have eternal rest, 
And Anne, my wife, has bid this world good night ; 
While fair Elizabeth, my beauteous niece, 
Like a new morn, lights onward to my wishes. 



74 RICHARD III. 

Enter Catesby, l.h. 

Cates. My lord — 

K. Rich. Good news, or bad, that thou com'st 
in so bluntly ? [Richmond, 

Cates. Bad news, my lord ; Morton is fled to 
And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy Welsh- 
Is in the field, and still his power increases, [men, 
K. Rich. Morton with Richmond touches me 
more near 
Than Buckingham, and his rash-levied numbers. 
But come, dangers retreat when boldly they're 
confronted, {Crosses to l.h.) 

And dull delay leads impotence and fear j 
Then fiery expedition raise my arm, 
And fatal may it fall on crush'd rebellion ! 
Let's muster men, my council is my shield ; 
We must be brief when traitors brave the field. 

[Exeunt^ l.h. 

SCENE IV.— The Neighbourhood of St. PauPs. 
Enter Queen, and the Duchess of York, r.h. 

Queen. Oh, my poor children ! — Oh, my 
tender babes ! — 
My unblown flowers, pluck'd by untimely hands J 
If yet your gentle souls fly in the air, 
And be not fix'd in doom perpetual, 
Hover about me with your airy wings, 
And hear your mother's lamentation ! 
Why slept their guardian angels when this deed 
was done ? 



RICHARD III. 57 

Due. Y. So many miseries have drain'd my eyes, 
That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute ; 
Why should calamity be full of words ? 

Queen. Let's give 'em scope : for though they 
can't remove, 
Yet do they ease affliction. [mations ; 

Due. Y. Why, then, let us be loud in excla- 
To Richard haste, and pierce him with our cries : 
(Trumpet sounds a march, r.h.u.e.) 
Hark ! his trumpet sounds ; — this way he must 
pass. 
Queen. Alas ! I've not the daring to confront 
him. (Crosses to r.h.) 

Due. Y. I have a mother's right, I'll force him 
to hear me. 

Enter King Richard and Catesby, with forces, 
through the Gates, r.h.u.e. Trumpet sounds a march. 

K. Rich. Who interrupts me in my expedition ? 
Due. Y. Dost thou not know me ? Art thou 

not my son ? 
K. Rich. I cry your mercy, madam, is it you ? 
Due. Y. Art thou my son ? [yourself. 

K. Rich. Ay, 1 thank heav'n, my father, and 
Due. Y. Then I command thee, hear me. 
K. Rich. Madam, I have a touch* of your 

condition, 
That cannot brook the accent of reproof. 

Due Y. Stay, I'll be mild and gentle in my 

words. [haste. 

M. Rich. And brief, good mother, for I am in 

* A particle of your temper or disposition, 



76 RICHARD III. 

Due. Y. Why, I have staid for thee, just heaven 
In torment and in agony. [knows, 

K. Rich. And came I not at last to comfort you ? 

Due. Y. No, on my soul ; too well thou know'st 
A grievous burden was thy birth to me ; [it ; — 
Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy ; 
Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and 

stubborn ; [bloody. 

Thy age confirm'd, most subtil, proud, and 

K. Rich. If I am so disgracious in thy eye, 
Let me march on, and not offend thee, madam ; 
Strike up the drum. (Queen advances, r.h.) 

Due. Y. Yet stay, I charge thee, hear me. 

Queen. If not, hear me ; — for I have wrongs 
will speak 
Without a tongue : — methinks the very sight 
Of me should turn thee into stone ; 
Where are my children, Gloster ? 

Due. Y. Where is thy brother Clarence ? 

Queen. Where Hastings ? 

Due. Y. Rivers ? 

Queen. Vaughan ? 

Due. Y. Grey ? [drums, 

K. Rich. A flourish, trumpets, strike alarum, 
Let not the heav'ns hear these tell-tale women 
Rail on the lords anointed : — strike, I say. 

(Alarum of Drums and Trumpets.) 
Either be patient, and intreat me fair, 
Or with the clamorous report of war 
Thus will I drown your exclamations. 

Due. Y. Then hear me heav'n, and heav'n at 
his latest hour 
Be deaf to him, as he is now to me ! 



RICHARD III. 77 

Ere from this war he turn a conqueror, 

Ye powers cut off his dangerous thread of life, 

Lest his black sins rise higher in account 

Than hell has pains to punish ! (Crosses to r.h.) 

Mischance and sorrow wait thee to the field ! 

Heart's discontent, languid and lean despair, 

With all the hells of guilt pursue thy steps for 

ever ! [Exit, r.h. 

Queen. Though far more cause, yet much less 

power to curse [her. 

Abides in me, — (Advances, r.h.) — I say amen to 

K. Rich. Stay, madam, 1 would beg some words 

with you. [to grant ! 

Queen. What canst thou ask, that I have now 

Is't another son ? Gloster, I have none. 

K. Rich. You have a beauteous daughter, 

call'd Elizabeth. 

Queen. Must she die, too ? 

K. Rich. For whose fair sake, I'll bring more 

good to you, 

Than ever you or your's from me had harm ; 

So in the Lethe of thy angry soul [wrongs 

Thou'lt drown the sad remembrance of those 

Which thou supposest me the cruel cause of. 

Queen. Be brief, lest that the process of thy 

kindness 

Lasts longer telling than thy kindness' date. 

K. Rich. Know then, that from my soul I love 

the fair 

Elizabeth, and will with your permission, 

Seat her on the throne of England. [her ? 

Queen, Alas ! vain man, how canst thou woo 

K. Rich. That would I learn of you, 
»7 # 



78 RICHARD III. 

As one being best acquainted with her humour, 
Queen. If thou wilt learn of me, then, woo 
her thus : — 
Send to her, by the man who kill'd her brothers, 
A pair of bleeding hearts, — thereon engrav'd, 
Edward and York ; — then, haply, will she weep. 
On this, present her with an handkerchief 
Stain' d with their blood, to wipe her woeful eyes 
If this inducement move her not to love, 
Read o'er the history of thy noble deeds ; 
Tell her, thy policy took off her uncles, 
Clarence, Rivers, Grey ? nay, and, for her sake. 
Made quick conveyance with her dear aunt Anne, 
K. Rich. You mock me, madam ; this is not the 
To win your daughter. [way 

{King Richard retires ; converses 'with Rat- 
cliff, and sends him off, l.h.) [love, 
Queen. What shall I say ? Still to affront his 
I fear, will but incense him to revenge ; 
And to consent, I should abhor myself ; 
Yet I may seemingly comply, and thus, 
By sending Richmond word of his intent, 
Shall gain some time to let my child escape him. 
It shall be so. {Aside. — Richard advances.) 
I have consider'd, sir, of your important wishes, 
And, could I but believe you real — [above — 
K. Rich. Now, by the sacred hosts of saints 
Queen. O, do not swear, my lord ; I ask no 
oath, 
Unless my daughter doubt you more than I. 

K. Rich. Oh, my kind mother ! (I must call 
Be thou to her my love's soft orator ; [you so) 
Plead what I will be, not what I have been ; 



RICHARD 111. 79 

Not my deserts, but what I will deserve. 
And, when this warlike arm shall have chastis'd 
The audacious rebel, hot-brain'd Buckingham; 
Bound with triumphant garlands will I come, 
And lead your daughter to a conqueror's bed. 

Queen. My lord, farewell ; — in some few days 
expect 
To hear how fair a progress I have made : 
Till when, be happy, as you're penitent. 

K. Rich. My heart goes with you to my love. 
Farewell. [Exit Queen, r.h. 

Relenting, shallow-thoughted woman ! 

Enter Ratcliff, l.h. 

How now ! the news ? [coast, 

Rat. Most gracious sovereign, on the western 
Rides a most powerful navy, and our fears 
Inform us Richmond is their admiral. 
There do they hull, expecting but the aid 
Of Buckingham, to welcome them ashore. 

[Exit, L.H. 
K. Rich. We must prevent him then.— Come 

hither, Catesby. 
Cates. My lord, your pleasure ? [stantly, 

K. Rich, Post to the Duke of Norfolk, in- 
Bid him straight levy all the strength and power 
That he can make, and meet me suddenly 
At Salisbury ; — commend me to his grace ;— 
awa y. [Exit Catesby, H-ff. 



RICHARD III. 



Enter Loud Stanley, l.h. 



Well, my lord, what news have you gather'd ? 

Stan. Richmond is on the seas, my lord. 

K. Rich. There let him sink, — and be the seas 
on him. 
White-liver'd runagate ; — what does he there ? 

Stan. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by 

K. Rich. Well, as you guess ? [guess. 

Stan. Stirred up by Dorset, Buckingham, and 
Morton, 
He makes for England, here to claim the crown. 

K. Rich. Traitor ! the crown ! 
Where is thy power then, to beat him back ? 
Where be thy tenants and thy followers ? 
The foe upon our coast, and thou no friends to 

meet 'em ! 
Or hast thou march'd them to the western shore. 
To give the rebels conduct from their ships ? 

Stan. My lord, my friends are ready all i' th' 
north. [north, 

K. Rich. The north ! why, what do they i' th' 

When they should serve their sovereign in the 

west ? [move : 

Stan. They yet have had no orders, sir, to 
If 'tis your royal pleasure they should march, 
I'll lead them on with utmost haste to join you, 
Where, and what time, your majesty shall please. 

K. Rich. What, thou'dst be gone to join with 
Richmond ? — Ha — [loyalty : 

Stan. Sir, you have no cause to doubt ray 
I ne'er yet was, nor ever will be, false. 



RICHARD III. 81 

K. Rich. Away then to thy friends, and lead 
'em on 

To meet me ; — (Crosses to r.h.) hold. — Come 
back I'll not trust thee. [son, 

I've thought a way to make thee sure ; — your 

George Stanley, sir, I'll have him left behind ; 

And look vour heart be firm, 

Or else his head's assurance is but frail, [him. 
Stan. As I prove true, my lord, so deal with 
K. Rich. Away. [Exit Stanley, r.h. 

Enter Ratcliff, l.h. 

Rat. My lord, the army of great Buckingham, 
By sudden floods, and fall of waters, 
Is half lost, and scatter'd : 
And he himself wander'd away alone, 
No man knows whither. 

K. Rich. Has any careful officer proclaim'd 
Reward to him that brings the traitor in ? 

Rat. Such proclamation has been made, my 
lord. 

Enter Catesby, r.h. 

Cates. My liege, the duke of Buckingham is 

taken. [Buckingham. 

K. Rich. Off with his head ; — so much for 

Cates. My lord, I am sorry I must tell more 

K. Rich. Out with it. [news. 

Cates. The earl of Richmond, w r ith a mighty 

Is landed, sir, at Milford ; [power, 

And, to confirm the news, lord marquis Dorset, 

And sir Thomas Lovell, are up in Yorkshire. 



82 RICHARD III. 

K. Rich. Why, ay, this looks rebellion : — Ho 1 

my horse ! 
By heav'n, the news alarms my stirring soul ; 
Come forth, my honest sword, which here 1 vow, 
By my soul's hope, shall ne'er again be sheath'd ; 
Ne'er shall these watching eyes have needful 

rest, 
Till death has clos'd 'em in a glorious grave, 
Or fortune given me measure of revenge. 

[Exeunt^ r.h. 

END OF ACT IV. 



ACT V. 

SCENE I. — The Country, near Tamworth. 

Enter Richmond, Oxford, Blunt, and others, 

L.H.U.E. 

Rich. Thus far, into the bowels of the land, 
Have we march'd on without impediment. 
Gloster, the bloody and devouring boar, 
Whose ravenous appetite has spoil'd your fields, 
Laid this rich country waste, and rudely cropt 
Its ripen'd hopes of fair posterity, 
Is now even in the centre of the isle, 
As we're inform'd, near to the town of Leicester : 
From Tamworth thither is but one day's march \ 



RICHARD III. 83 

And here receive we, from our father Stanley, 
Lines of fair comfort and encouragement, 
Such as will help and animate our cause ; 
On which let's cheerly on, courageous friends, 
To reap the harvest of a lasting peace, 
Or fame more lasting from a well-fought war. 
Oxford. Your words have fire, my lord, and 

warm our men, [hearten'd 

Who look'd, methought, but cold before ; — dis- 
With the unequal numbers of the foe. 

Rich. Why, double 'em still, our cause would 

conquer 'em. 
Thrice is he arm'd, that has his quarrel just ; 
And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, 
Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted : 
The very weight of Gloster's guilt shall crush 

him. four's. 

Blunt. His best friends, no doubt, will soon be 
Oxford. He has no friends, but what are such 

through fear. [heav'n. 

Rich, And we no foes, but what are such to 

Then doubt not, heav'n's for us ; — let's on, my 

friends : [wings ; 

True hope ne'er tires, but mounts with eagle's 
Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures 

kings. [Exeunt^ r.h. 

SCENE 11.— Bosworth Field. 
Enter King Richard, Norfolk, Ratcliff, #c ; 

L.H.U.E. 

K. Rich. Here pitch our tent, even in Bos- 
worth Field : 



84 RICHARD III. 

My good lord of Norfolk, the cheerful speed 
Of your supply has merited my thanks. 

Nor. I am rewarded, sir, in haying power 
To serve your majesty. [with my tent ; 

K. Rich. You have our thanks, my lord : up 
Here will I lie to-night ;* — but where to-mor- 
row ? 
Well, no matter where. — Has any careful friend 
Discover' d yet the number of the rebels ? 

Nor. My lord, as I from spies am well inform'd, 
Six or seven thousand is their utmost power. 

K. Rich, Why, our battalia treble that amount j 
Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength, 
Which they upon the adverse faction want. 

Nor. Their wants are greater yet, my lord ;-— 
those e'en 
Of motion, life, and spirit ; — did you but know 
How wretchedly their men disgrace the field ; 
Oh, such a tattered host of mounted scare-crows ! 
So poor, so famish'd ; their executors, 
The greedy crows, fly hovering o'er their heads, 
Impatient for their lean inheritance. 

K. Rich. Now, by St. Paul, we'll send 'em 
dinners and apparel ; 
Nay, give their fasting horses provender, 
And after fight 'em. — How long must we stay, 
My lords, before these desperate fools will give 
Us time to lay 'em with their faces upwards ? 

Nor. Unless their famine saves our swords that 
labour, 



* Richard did not sleep in his tent the night before the 
battle, but in the town of Leicester. 






RICHARD III. 85 

To-morrow's sun will light 'em to their ruin ; 
So soon, I hear, they mean to give us battle. 
K. Rich. The sooner still the better. — Come 
my lords, 
Now let's survey the 'vantage of the ground : 

(Crosses to r.h.) 
Call me some men of sound direction. 
Nor. My gracious lord — 
K. Rich. What say'st thou, Norfolk ? 
• Nor. Might I advise your majesty, you yet 
Shall save the blood that may be shed to-morrow. 
K. Rich. How so, my lord ? [me, 

Nor. The poor condition of the rebels tells 
That on a pardon offer'd to the lives 
Of those that instantly shall quit their arms, 
Young Richmond, ere to-morrow's dawn, were 
friendless. [ry's way. 

K. Rich. Why that, indeed, was our sixth Har- 
Which made his reign one scene of rude com- 
motion. 
I'll be in men's despite a monarch ; no, 
Let kings that fear, forgive, — blows and revenge 
for me. [Exeunt, r.h. 

SCENE III. — Richmond? $ Camp in Bosworth 
Field. 

Enter Richmond, Oxford, Blunt, #-c. l.h. 

Rich. The weary sun has made a golden set, 
And by yon ruddy brightness of the clouds, 
Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow. 
8 



86 RICHARD III. 

Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard ; 
My lord of Oxford, you, sir Walter Herbert, 
And you, sir William Brandon, stay with me : 
The earl of Pembroke keeps* his regiment. 
Here have I drawn the model of our battle, 

(Unfolding a Scroll.) 
Which parts in just proportion our small power ; 
Here may each leader know his several charge. 

Enter Officer, l.h. 

Off. Sir, a gentleman, that calls himself Stan- 
ley, 
Desires admittance to the earl of Richmond. 
Rich. Now, by our hopes, my noble father-in- 
law ; 
Admit him : — [Exit Officer, l.h.] my good friends, 
your leave awhile. 

Enter Lord Stanley, l.h. Officers retire. 

My honour' d father ! on my soul, 
The joy of seeing you this night is more 
Than my most knowing hopes presag'd : — what 
news ? [mother, 

Stan. I, by commission, bless thee from thy 
Who prays continually for Richmond's good : 
The queen too has with tears of joy consented 
Thou should'st espouse Elizabeth, her daughter, 
At whom the tyrant Richard closely aims. 
In brief, (for now the shortest moment of 

# Remains with it. 



RICHARD III. 87 

My stay is bought with hazard of my life,) 
Prepare thy battle early in the morning, 
(For so the season of affairs requires,) 
And this be sure of, I, upon the first 
Occasion offer'd, will deceive some eyes, 
And aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms : 
In which I had more forward been, ere this, 
But that the life of thy young brother, George, 
(Whom as my pawn of faith, stern Richard 

keeps,) 
Would then be forfeit to his wild revenge. 
Farewell, the rude enforcement of the time 
Denies me to renew those vows of love 
Which so long-sunder 1 d friends should dwell upon. 
Rich. We yet may meet again, my lord. — 
Stan. Till then, once more farewell, — be re- 
solute, and conquer. 
Rich. Give him safe conduct to his regiment. 
[Exeunt an Officer, and Stanley, r.h. 
Well, sirs, (Officers advance.) to-morrow proves 
a busy day : [cil ; 

But come, the night's far spent ;— let's in to coun- 
Captain, an hour before the sun gets up, 
Let me be wak'd ; — 1 will in person walk 
From tent to tent, and early cheer the soldiers. 

[Exeunt, r.h. 

SCENE IV.— A Wood. 

Enter King Richard, Ratcliff, Norfolk, and 
Catesby, l.h. 

K. Rich. Catesby. 
Gates. Here, my lord, 



88 RICHARD III. 

K. Rich. Send out a pursuivant at arms 
To Stanley's regiment ; bid him, "fore sun-rise. 
Meet me with his power, or his son George's 
Shall pay the forfeit of his cold delay. [head 
What, is my beaver easier than it was, 
And all my armour laid into my tent ? 

Cates. It is my liege, all in readiness. 

K. Rich. What is't o'clock. 

Cates. It is nine o'clock, my lord. 

K. Rich. Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge ; 
Use careful watch, — choose trusty centinels. 

Nor. Doubt not, my lord. (Crosses to l.h. 

K. Rich. Be stirring with the lark, good Nor- 
folk. 

Nor. I shall, my lord. — [Exit l h. [morrow. 

K. Rich Saddle White Surrey for the field to- 
Is ink and paper ready ? 

Cates. It is, my lord. [tent, 

K. Rich. An hour after midnight, come to my 
And help to arm me : — a good night, my friends. 

[Exit, R.H. 

Cates. Methinks, the king has not that pleas'd 
alacrity, 
Nor cheer of mind, that he was wont to have. 

Rat. The mere effect of business; 
You'll find him, sir, another man i'th'field, 
When you shall see him with his beaver up, 
Ready to mount his neighing steed, with whom 
He smiling seems to have some wanton talk, 
Clapping his pamperd s;des to hold him still ; 
Then, with a motion swift and light as air, 
Like fiery Mars, he vaults him to the saddle ; 
Looks terror to the foe. and courage to his sol- 
diers. 



RICHARD III. 89 

Cates. Good night to Richmond then ; for, as 

I hear, 
His numbers are so few, and those so sick, 
And famish'd in their march, if he dares fight us,— 
He jumps into the sea to cool his fever. 
But come, 'tis late ; — now let us to our tents, 
We've few hours good, before the trumpet 

wakes us. [Exeunt, l.h. 

SCENE V.— Richard's Tent. 
Enter King Richard, from his Tent. 

K. Rich. 'Tis now the dead of night, and half 

the world 
Is in a lonely, solemn darkness hung ; 
Yet I (so coy a dame is sleep to me,) 
With all the weary courtship of 
My care-tir'd thoughts, can't win her to my bed ; 
Though e'en the stars do wink, as 'twere with 

over-watching. 
I'll forth and walk awhile ; — the air's refreshing, 
And the ripe harvest of the new-mown hay 
Gives it a sweet and wholesome odour, [to camp 
How awful is this gloom ! and hark ! from camp 
The hum of either army stilly sounds ; 
That the tixt centinels almost receive 
The secret whispers of each other's watch. 
Steed threatens steed in high and boastful neigh- 

ings, [tents, 

Piercing the night's dull ear. — Hark ! from the 
The armourers accomplishing the knights, 
With clink of hammers closing rivets up, 
8* 



90 RICHARD III. 

Give dreadful note of preparation : while some, 
Like sacrifices, by their fires of watch, 
With patience sit, and inly ruminate 
The morning's danger. — By yon heav'n, my stern 
Impatience chides this tardy-gaited night, 
That like a foul and ugly witch, does limp 
So tediously away, — I'll to my couch, 
And once more try to sleep her into morning. 
(Advances towards the couch ; — a groan is heard.) 
Ha ! what means that dismal voice ? Sure 'tis 
The echo of some yawning grave, 
That teems with an untimely ghost. — 'Tisgone ! 
'Twas but my fancy, or, perhaps, the wind, 
Forcing its entrance through some hollow ca- 
vern. — 
No matter what ; — I feel my eyes grow heavy. 

(Lies down, — Sleeps.) 

King Henry's Ghost appears. 

King. H. Oh ! thou, whose unrelenting 
thoughts, not all 
The hideous terrors of thy guilt can shake ; 
Whose conscience, with thy body, ever sleeps, — 
Sleep on ; while I, by heaven's high ordinance, 
In dreams of horror wake thy frightful soul : 
Now, give thy thoughts to me ; let 'em behold 
These gaping wounds, which thy death-dealing 
Within the Tower gave my anointed body : [hand 
Now shall thy own devouring conscience gnaw 
Thy heart, and terribly revenge my murder. 






RICHARD III. 91 

Lady Anne's Ghost appears. 

Lady A. Think on the wrongs of wretched 
Anne, thy wife, 
E'en in the battle's heat remember me, 
And edgeless fall thy sword, — despair and die. 

The Ghosts of Prince Edward and the Duke of 
York, appear. 

Prince E* Richard, dream on, and see the 
wandering spirits 
Of thy young nephews, murder'd in the Tower: 
Could not our youth, our innocence, persuade 
Thy cruel heart to spare our harmless lives ? 
Who, but for thee, alas! might have enjoy'd 
Our many promis'd years of happiness. 
No soul, save thine, but pities our misusage : 
O, 'twas a cruel deed ! therefore alone, 
Unpitying, unpitied shalt thou fall, [me away ; 

King H. The morning's dawn has summon'd 
And let that wild despair, which now does prey 
Upon thy mangled thoughts, alarm the world. 
Awake, Richard, awake, to guilty minds 
A terrible example ! (All the Ghosts vanish.) 

K. Rich. (Starts up.) Give me another horse, 
— bind up my wounds ! 

(Drops on his Knees.) 
Have mercy, heav'n ! ha ! soft, — 'twas but a 
But then so terrible, it shakes my soul ; [dream ; 
Cold drops of sweat hang on my trembling flesh ; 
My blood grows chilly, and I freeze with horror : 
Oh, tyrant conscience ! how dost thou afflict me ;— 



92 RICHARD III. 

When I look back, 'tis terrible retreating ; 
I cannot bear the thought, nor dare repent : 
I am but man ; and fate do thou dispose me. 

Enter Catesby, r.h. 

Who's there ? {Rises.) 

Cates. 'Tis 1, my lord ; the early village cock 
Hath thrice done salution to the morn : 
Your friends are up, and buckle on their armour. 
K. Rich. Oh, Catesby ! I have had such hor- 
rid dreams. [heeding. 
Cates Shadows, my lord, — below the soldier's 
JL Rich. Now, by my this day's hopes, — sha- 
dows to-night 
Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard, 
Than can the substance often thousand soldiers, 
Arm'd all in proof, and led by shallow Richmond. 
Cates. Be more yourself, my lord : consider, 
sir, 
Were it but known a dream had frighted you, 
How would your animated foes presume on't ! 
K. Rich. Perish the thought ! — no, never be 
it said 
That fate itself could awe the soul of Richard. 
Hence, babbling dreams ! you threaten here in 

vain! 
Conscience, avaunt ! Richard's himself again : 

{Trumpets sound a call.) 
Hark ! the shrill trumpet sounds to horse ; away : 
My soul's in arms, and eager for the fray. 

[Flourish of Drums and Trumpets, Exeunt, r.h. 



RICHARD III. 93 

SCENE VI.— A Wood. 

{A March.) 

Enter Richmond, Oxford, Soldiers, &rc l.h. 

Rich. Halt. 

Sold. ( Without.) Halt,— halt ! 

JJicft. How far into the morning is it, friends .' 

Oxford. Near four, my lord. 

Rich. 'Tis well — 
I am glad to find we are such early stirrers. 

Oxford. Methinks the foe's less forward than 
we thought 'em ; 
Worn as we are, we brave the field before 'em. 

Rich. Come, there looks life in such a cheer- 
ful haste : 
If dreams should animate a soul resolv'd, [night ; 
I'm more than pleas'd with those I've had to- 
MethoughUhat all the ghosts of them whose 

bodies 
Richard murder'd, came mourning to my tent, 
And roiis' d me to revenge 'em. 

Oxford, A good omen, sir,— ( Trumpet sounds 
a distant March, r.h.) hark ! the trumpet of 
The enemy ; it speaks them on the march. 

Rich. Why then let's on, my friends, to face 
'em ! 
In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man, 
As mild behaviour and humility ; 
But, when the blast of war blows in our ears, 
Let us be tigers in our fierce deportment : 



94 RICHARD III. 

For me, the ransom of my bold attempt 
Shall be this body on the earth's cold face ; 
But, if we thrive, the glory of the action 
The meanest here shall share his part of; — 
Advance your standards, draw your willing 
swords ; [fully. 

Sound drums, and trumpets, boldly and cheer- 
The word's St, George, Kichmond, and Victory. 
[Flourish of Drums and Trumpets, Exeunt, r.h. 

SCENE VII.— Richard's Camp. 

Enter King Richard, Catesby, and Forces, l.h.u.e. 

K Rich. Who saw the sun to-day ? 
Gates. He has not yet broke forth, my lord. 
K. Rich. Then he disdains to shine, — for, by 
the clock, 
He should have brav'd the east an hour ago : 
Not shine to-day ! Why what is that to me, 
More than to Richmond ! for the self-same 

heav'n 
That frowns on me, loojts low'ring upon him. 

Enter Norfolk, with a paper in his hand, r.h. 

Nor. Prepare, my lord, the foe is in the field. 
K. Rich. Come, bustle, bustle, caparison my 
horse, 
Call forth Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power ; 
Myself will lead the soldiers to the plain. 

[Exit, Catesby, l.h. 



RICHARD III. 95 

Well, Norfolk, what think'st, thou now ? 

Nor. That we shall conquer : — but on my tent, 
This morning early, was this paper found. 

K. Rich. (Reads.) "Jockey of Norfolk, be 
not too bold, 
For Dickon,* thy master, is bought and sold." 
A weak invention of the enemy ! 
Come, gentlemen, now each man to his charge, 
And, ere we do bestride our foaming steeds, 
Remember whom you are to cope withal, 
A scum of Bretons, rascals, runaways, 
Whom their o'ercloy'd country vomits forth 
To desperate adventures, and destruction. — 

Enter Catesby, l.h. 

What says Lord Stanley, will he bring his 
power? 
Cates. He does refuse, my lord ;- — he will not 
K. Rich. Off with his son George's head. [stir. 

(Distant March^ r.h.) 
Nor. My lord, the foe's already past the 
marsh ; — f 
After the battle let young Stanley die. 

* Dickon is the ancient vulgar familiarization of 
Riehard. 

t There was a large marsh in Bosworth plain between 
the two armies. Henry passed it, and made such a dispo- 
sition of his forces that it served to protect his right wing. 
By this movement he gained also another point, that his 
men should engage with the sun behind them, and in the 
faces of his enemies ; a matter of great consequence, whe«i 
bows and arrows were in use. 



96 RTCHARD III. 

K. Rich. Why, after be it then. 
A thousand hearts are swelling in my bosom ; 
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head, 
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood ; 
And thou, our warlike champion, thrice-re- 

nown'd 
St. George, inspire me with the rage of lions ; 
Upon 'em : — charge : — follow me ! [Exeunt r.h. 

SCENE VIII.- — A part of Bosworth Field.— 
Alarums, 

Enter King Richard, r.h. 

K. Rich. What ho ! young Richmond, ho, 'tis 
Richard calls ! 
I hate thee, Harry, for thy blood of Lancaster ; 
Now if thou dost not hide thee from my sword, 
Now while the angry trumpet sounds alarms, 
And dying groans transpierce the wounded air, 
Richmond, I say, come forth, and singly face me ; 
Richard is hoarse with daring thee to arms. 

[Exit, L.H. 

SCENE IX.— A Wood. 

Enter Catesby, l.h.u.e. ; and Norfolk, r.h.u.e, 
in disorder. 
Cates. Rescue ! Rescue ! my lord of Norfolk, 
haste ; 
The king enacts more wonders than a man, 
Daring and opposite to every danger : 



RICHARD III. 97 

His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights, 
Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death; 
Nay haste, my lord, — the day's against us, 

[Exeunt, l.h.u.e. 

Enter King Richard and Ratcliff, l.h. 

K. Rich. A horse ! a horse ! my kingdom for 

a horse. [yon thicket 

Rat. This way, this way, my lord; — beJow 

Stands a swift horse ; away ; — ruin pursues us ; 

Withdraw, my lord, for only flight can save you. 

K. Rich. Slave ! I have set my life upon a cast, 

And I will stand the hazard of the die ! 

[Exit) Rat. l.h. 
I think there be six Richmonds in the field, 
Five have I slain to day, instead of him : — 
A horse ! a horse ! my kingdom for a horse. 

[Exit) R.IL 

SCENE X.—Bosworth Field. 

Enter King Richard, l.h. ana^ Richmond, r.h. 

meeting. 

K. Rich. Of one or both of us, the time is 
come. [is thine • 

Rich. Kind heav'n, I thank thee, for my cause 
If Richard's fit to live, let Richmond fall 

K. Rich. Thy gallant bearing, Harry, I could 
'plaud, 
But that the spotted rebel stains the soldier, 
9 



9« RICHARD III. 

Rich. Nor should thy prowess, Richard, want 

my praise, 

But that thy cruel deeds have stamp'd thee 

tyrant ! [draws it. 

So thrive my sword, as heav'ns high vengeance 

K. Rich. My soul and body on the action both. 

Rich. A dreadful lay ; — here's to decide it. 

(A larums. — They fight ; Richard falls. ) 
K. Rich. Perdition catch thy arm ;-the chance 
is thine, 
But oh ! the vast renown thou hast acquir'd, 
In conquering Richard, does afflict him more 
Than even his body's parting with its soul. 
Now let the world no longer be a stage 
To feed contention in a lingering act ; 
But let one spirit of the first-born Cain 
Reign in all bosoms ; that each heart being set 
On bloody actions, the rude scene may end, 
And darkness be the burier of the dead ! [Dies.) 
Rich, Farewell, Richard, and from thy dread- 
Ail end 
May future kings from tyranny be warn'd ; 
Had thy aspiring soul but stirr'd in virtue 
With half the spirit it has dar'd in evil, 
How might thy fame have grae'd our English 

annals ! 
But as thou art, how fair a page thou'st blotted ! 

[A retreat sounded.) 
Hark ! the glad trumpet speaks the field our own, 

Enter Lord Stanley, Oxford, and Soldiers, with 
King Richard's Crown, l.h. 



RICHARD III. 99 

Oh, welcome, friends! my noble father, wel- 
come ! 

Heav'n and our arms be prais'd, the day is our's ; 

See there, my lord's, stern Richard is no more. 
Stan. Victorious Richmond, well hast thou ac- 
quitted thee ! [thee : 

And see the just reward that heav'n has sent 

Among the glorious spoils of Bosworth-field, 

We've found the crown, which now in right is 
thine : 

'Tis doubly thine by conquest and by choice. 

Long live Henry the Seventh, king of England ! 

{Flourish ; — all Kneel.) 
Rich Next to just heav'n, my countrymen, 

I owe my thanks to you, whose love I'm proud of, 

And ruling well shall speak my gratitude 

But now, my lords, what friends of our's are 
missing ! 

Pray tell me, is young George Stanley living ? 
Stan. He is, my liege, and safe in Leicester 
town, 

Whither if you please, we may withdraw us. 

Enter Blunt, r.h. 

Blunt. My lord, the queen, and fair Elizabeth, 
Her beauteous daughter, some few miles off, 
Are on their way to 'gratulate your victory. 

Rich. Ay, there, indeed, my toil's rewarded. 
Let us prepare to meet 'em, lords ; — and then, 
As we're already bound by solemn vows, 
We'll twine the roses red and white together, 

{They wave the Banners.) 



100 



RICHARD III. 



And both from one kind stalk shall flourish ! 
England has long been mad, and scarr'd herself; 
The brother blindly shed the brother's blood ; 
The father rashly slaughtered his own son ; 
The bloody son, compelled, has kill'd his sire. 
Oh, now, let Henry and Elizabeth, 
The true successors of each royal house, 
Conjoin'd together, heal those deadly wounds ! 
And be that wretch of all mankind abhorred, 
That would renew those bloody days again ; 
Ne'er let him live to taste our joy's increase, 
That would with treason wound fair England's 
peace ! 



Disposition of the Characters when the Curtain falls. 




R.H. 



CURTAIN. 



L.H. 



OXBERRY'S EDITION 



OP 



Kftt JLeto ISttfiltefi Drama 



?▼ ELLS & LILLY, (Boston) have commenced 
reprinting a Series of Plays that are now publish- 
ing in London, and known as Oxberry's Edition, 
which is the only one ever published containing 
the stage business, and directions for correct per- 
formance of plays, 

O^r A Number is published every Saturday, 
Price to Subscribers, — each play 25 cents — each 
melo'drame or farce, 20 cents. 



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